


The Courageous Adventures of Gentleman Jack Presents: The Girl Next Door

by KNYCUK



Series: The Courageous Adventures of Gentleman Jack [1]
Category: Gentleman Jack (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anne Lister is a 1930s pulp hero a'la Batman, Crime, Derring-Do, F/F, Murder, Romance, Some violence but nothing super grisly, there will be sexy times
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-14
Updated: 2020-10-06
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:07:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 29,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25270609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KNYCUK/pseuds/KNYCUK
Summary: The year is 1935, Anne Lister spends half of her days as a socialite and gadabout, attending soirees and seducing rich women. Few would believe that the charming rascal is also the mysterious and fearsome crimefighter...Gentleman Jack!In our first adventure, we meet Gentleman Jack, already an experienced vigilante, working a murder case that hits close to home. Very close to home indeed...
Relationships: Anne Lister (1791-1840)/Ann Walker (1803-1854), Anne Lister (1791-1840)/Isabella "Tib" Norcliffe
Series: The Courageous Adventures of Gentleman Jack [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1830793
Comments: 108
Kudos: 109





	1. It Was Supposed to Be a Night Off

**Author's Note:**

> Long time reader, first time fan-fic writer. My original intent was to have a LOT of this prepared before posting a chapter. But, I believe that posting as I go will help to foster a drive to 'get it done'. That's the theory, anyway.  
> This fandom is full of fantastic people and i hope you like this marriage of Gentleman Jack and the heroes of the Golden Age of comics. I aim to make it like the stories of that era, full of adventure but also smatterings of comedy and ridiculous whimsy. With enough drive, I'll keep the tales going, in a serialised fashion, just like comic books. This is the first multi-part story arc. 
> 
> VERY tempted to call any new/original character 'Anne' or maybe 'Ann', because you know...the real life story of these two women and the hordes of Ann(e)s in their lives isn't confusing enough. But, you'll be glad to know, I've resisted that urge.
> 
> As mentioned, I'm writing as I go. It's been a while since I've written any narrative fiction and I'm bound to make mistakes and want to edit as we move along. Certainly, because I'm hoping this will go on for a while, I'm looking forward to meeting the comic writer's nemesis...CONTINUITY. Bear with me if I goof this up.

Chapter One

She was peacefully reading a book in her study. It was a rare quiet night for her, having returned to her ancestral home in Halifax. She was miles away from her usual hunting ground in York. 

Relishing a third read of Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein, she swirled the Chateauneuf du Pape in her glass. She mentally thanked herself for having such unfailing expertise in the noble grape. It was a fine bottle. Just as she'd turned the page to a new chapter, there was an alarming screech and an ensuing crash. A bat had burst through the window, a shard of glass catching Anne on her angled cheekbone. Anne sprang to her feet, spilling her wine as the brown leathery wings missed her face by a sliver. "Damnation!" she yelled as the intruder flapped around her, aimless and confused. She wiped the blood off her cheek before pulling her shotgun off the wall and putting a hole the size of baby’s fist into the flying rodent. The unfortunate bat fell to the ground. Its innards now...elsewhere in the handsome room.

“This bloody house” she sighed and went to get the broom. “Blasted single pane windows. Cordingley! Get a dustpan and ready the JackMobile. We’re going back to York.”

*Theme music sung to the tune of the 1960s Adam West Batman show*

Anne Anne Anne Anne Anne Anne Anne Anne Anne Anne Anne Anne Anne Anne! 

The Rolls Royce Phantom hustled speedily over the country roads. Anne had purchased it fresh off the line 10 years ago, in 1925, and though she knew it was on its last legs, she couldn't bear to part with it. Black and sleek but with a thunderous and custom-made supercharged engine, it had served her well and she felt a type of loyalty to the machine. With Cordingley behind the wheel, Anne looked over her files. Two weeks since the murder and she was no closer to learning the identity of the person who had slain John Walker. The wealthy businessman had been shot by an intruder in his own home upon returning from a honeymoon in Italy. Though the police had investigated the case around the clock for the two weeks, they had no leads. Anne's liaison to the York Police, Detective Tib Norcliffe, had tipped her off that they were close to pinning the blame on John's new wife, Emily. She hadn't been seen since the night it happened and the investigation's focus was now the manhunt to find her. Anne's instincts told her there was something they'd missed. 

There had been an attempt on an Elizabeth Sutherland in Glasgow, with an unidentifiable intruder escaping out of an open window after being discovered last week. The case had been quickly closed by the Glaswegian force as nothing had been stolen.

The York Police were not connecting these cases as they were classifying the Sutherland case as a simple botched robbery attempt. But, Anne, or rather her vigilante persona, Gentleman Jack, had made the link. John and Elizabeth were blood relatives, Elizabeth's maiden name being Walker. There was one other surviving Walker sibling. Ann. She was a philanthropist based near Shibden at Lightcliffe, a mile down the road from Anne's ancestral home and sometimes retreat. Anne Lister made it her business to know the ins and outs of Halifax, she had to move amongst them as a socialite, and she was entirely familiar with the Walker family tree. Miss Walker was very wealthy...though she was rarely spotted in and around England's 'bright young things' scene. She didn't travel far out of Yorkshire, having never been introduced in London. She resided in Halifax and only ventured out occasionally for philanthropic events and charity work. 

The car pulled into the garage behind the handsome York townhouse which served as Gentleman Jack’s base of operations. Anne got in quickly, careful not to wake her Aunt, and took herself up to her armoury to get changed. She pulled her flak waistcoat on, buckled her utility pouches around her hips, attached her holster, threw on her great coat, and affixed a black leather mask which covered her face...leaving only her regal jawline exposed. Finally, she donned her top hat, which served the unique purpose of throwing any accidental onlookers off of her sex. The very few reports that existed about the elusive Gentleman Jack insisted that the vigilante was a lithe and lean man if not 'the spirit of retribution itself' as the Yorkshire Courier had dramatically described her. Gentleman Jack was a melange of blacks and greys with one splash of ruby red at the middle of the sternum. It was growing pitch dark on a Sunday and Gentleman Jack was sleepless. 

Surveying the handsome 3 story home of John Walker from a nearby rooftop, Jack pulled her binoculars out from her belt. She searched window to window...carefully surveying the home. She couldn't see any movement within. The York Police were obviously done investigating for tonight and no one was on guard. Could they be stopping the investigation altogether? ‘Feckless nincompoops’, she thought. Under a brilliant moon obscured by scattered clouds, she fired a hook out of her cane and grappled over to the Walker residence.

She opened a second story window and carefully padded down onto the Turkish rug of the master bedroom. The murder had taken place downstairs in the kitchen. But, thanks to a guarded police investigation, this was the first time Jack had been able to access the property. It wouldn't hurt to start searching for clues where she'd landed. Careful to keep the lights off, she clicked her torch on. Pressing a button on her gauntlet-like glove, she triggered a supplementary lamp, located in the top hat. Like a miner's helmet, the hat contained a light source at the centre, near the brim. It served Jack well as both an extra beam and a useful way to blind her foes.

Most of what would have been considered evidence had been bagged and taken away. But Jack was sure she could find something of interest if she looked hard enough. Something the York force, had missed. 

John Walker had become the heir to the Walker Estates & Property Holdings Company two years ago. He'd been ambitious from the start, looking at a big purchase of land near Hull. Family and friends believed that he wanted a holiday home near the sea, but Jack thought there might be more to it than leisure. John was a canny young man. She made a note to look closer into the land that he had bid on. Carefully treading through the room, Jack noticed a periodical on John's bedside table. _Autocar_...she had a copy of it herself. This was last month's issue. 

Now, on the landing between rooms, Jack crept into Walker’s home office. John had preferred this to the ground floor study because of the view and sunlight, not to mention the privacy, it offered. She bent down to pick up some burnt paper fragments from the fireplace. Some of it was still legible. She placed them gingerly into a small metal box and then safely into a utility pouch. She'd examine them closely in the daylight. In the desk, she found an unopened bottle of women's perfume. Bellodgia Caron. She made a note.

It was time to move downstairs. Jack was eager to see what a fresh pair of eyes, well...hers, might bring to the crime scene. The stairs creaked under her feet and her boots hit the flagstones of the old fashioned kitchen with a soft tap. The place looked like it hadn't been used to cook anything in a while. Jack spotted the blood stains on the wall and the floor almost immediately. She pulled out a pad to sketch a diagram...making sure to measure things up with her Parapluie brand tape measure...known for being the most accurate in the world. 

It was then that she noticed one lone plate by the sink. It had the remains of someone's meal on it-- bit of salad and half of a buttered crumpet. The butter still glistened and, though toasted, the crumpet was by no means stale. This was fresh. 

She turned to the door just as it opened.

The woman was blinded by Jack's lamp. Young with waved and golden hair, wearing only a white nightdress, her feet bare on the cold floor, she squinted her eyes. This was Ann Walker. She looked delicate, fragile, tired, and angelic.

"Who..who are you? Stay back. Pl...please don't--"

By the time she'd finished her sentence with 'hurt me', Gentleman Jack was gone.


	2. Ann Walker Will Be There

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This kind of feels like half a chapter as I’m leaving it off a bit early so I can keep on track for posting regularly. There’s obviously more to come at the event. But I hope you enjoy a little more backstory and the image of Anne Lister in a tuxedo.

Aunt Anne came down to breakfast at 8. Anne, the younger, had been reading the Yorkshire Courier at the table with her bowl of porridge. Also on the table were figs, an assortment of jams, orange juice, coffee, tea, pastries, and a rack full of toast.  
"Cordingley is under the hood of the Phantom this morning, so she kept breakfast continental'.  
"Oh, I'm not terribly hungry. A bit of toast is fine for me", the septuagenarian said as her niece pulled her chair out. "Something wrong with the Jackmobile"?  
"No, nothing."  
"You should treat yourself to a new model, you know. We have the money".  
"I'm not worried about our finances. It's...it's just it's in fine working order. That's all".  
"You're attached to that car like it's a noble steed. It doesn't have a personality, you know".  
"I know that. She just loves a tune-up sometimes. We all do. Speaking of which, how's your leg?"  
“Oh this thing...it’s fine. I can predict the weather by it”.  
“Well, the Courier says it’s going to be a bright and fine morning with a high of 15 degrees. We don’t need your leg to tell us that. I don’t want you lifting a finger today. Sit in the garden, get some fresh air.”  
Anne poured her aunt a cup of tea and herself a fresh coffee.  
The two continued to enjoy their breakfast. Anne treasured the time she could set aside for her aunt and tried not to appear too eager to get to her lab.  
After another ten minutes passed, Aunt Anne could see that her niece was fidgeting.  
“I can see you are itching to get cracking on whatever you gathered last night. Go on.”  
“I won’t need lunch.”  
“Obviously.“  
“I’ll peek out for dinner with you and Cordingley later.”  
Aunt Anne sat confused. “Dinner? Your calendar has you at a cocktail hour for the Women and Children’s Shelter tonight. It’s at the Symphonic Hall.”  
“Hey ho. I’ll send them a cheque. It won’t matter to them whether I’m there or not. They just want the donation.”  
“Oh, that’s a shame. I believe Ann Walker will be there tonight. You remember her. She’s volunteering with the shelter now as well as being a donor.  
“Hmmm...”  
“It’s black tie. I’ll have Cordingley press your tuxedo.”  
Anne gave a gentle nod and descended the staircase to her laboratory.

Ann Walker was sat alone in her deceased brother’s empty townhouse.  
She was still in shock over what had occurred last night. She’d seen him with her own eyes. The flash of ruby red. The top hat. The walking stick. The blinding light. From the little that had been written about Gentleman Jack, she knew that it was a match. Who else could it have been? They said that he was a hero to the vulnerable and voiceless. The papers had said he was like the noble antithesis of Jack the Ripper. That ‘this night prowler was a saviour and a Gentleman’. A Gentleman Jack. Eliza Priestley’s latest society column had speculated wildly about his identity after gushing about the brave service he was providing the city of York. She’d look forward to catching up with Eliza later. At least she’d have something to talk about at the event. She normally just stood quietly with a drink in her hand and allowed herself to fade into the background.  
She got up, brushed off her pleated skirt and pulled her cardigan tight. The house was cold. She turned the furnace on; she planned on getting a couple of hours of tidying the house and sorting out the mess the police had left. Ann still had hopes that Emily was going to return, so she didn’t even begin to consider removing anything that belonged to either of them.

She was actually looking forward to tonight’s fundraising event. She’d sent the invitation to Anne Lister personally. She’d actually sent out all the invitations to donors but she’d written an extra ‘Hope you can make it’ on the one to Miss Lister. The last time she’d actually seen her was nearly six years ago. She’d spotted her tall, strong form crossing the road in Halifax. No one had quite the same purposeful walk. Without knowing where the sudden courage sprang from, she’d called out to her. “Miss Lister? Miss Lister?” No reply. Then, she’d jostled through the crowds of Christmas shoppers and tapped her on the shoulder.  
Miss Lister had turned around sharply, with a fearsome glint in her eyes which then turned into the warmest, most charming smile Ann ever seen. The blush running to her face was unstoppable.  
“Oh, I’m so sorry. You caught me off guard. Hello... It’s Miss...?” Anne searched desperately.  
“Walker, I live over at Lightcliffe.”  
"Of course, Ann Walker. Miss Walker, I beg your pardon. I didn't mean to turn so suddenly on you. It's been years, hasn't it?"  
"Yes, several. Last time was when I was oh...fifteen or so".  
"So it was." Miss Lister had looked at her then. Thoroughly...appraising her. "And what have you been up to since then?"  
"Oh well, I'm out doing a bit of last minute Christmas shopping. My brother is so hard to buy for."  
"I know the feeling. But I'm sure you've done other things between the age of 15 and this afternoon. In fact, I'd heard rumour that you've gone to art college".  
Ann's skin prickled with delight. How did Miss Lister know? Had she asked about her?  
"Oh, just a few classes. I'm trying to improve my sketching hobby".  
"Well, I should love to see your portfolio someday. Someday soon. I'm afraid I've got to dash now. My aunt is expecting me back at Shibden."  
“Of course. I’m sorry to hold you up.”  
“Don’t apologise. It’s been a pleasure. And let’s get that date diaried, shall we? Get in touch with my Aunt Anne. She sort of runs my calendar nowadays.”  
“OK, I..I will.”  
But she hadn’t. Shy Ann Walker let Miss Lister walk away down the cobbled street as the snowflakes started to fall.

Now, tonight even, she was finally going to see her again. Be in the same room with her, maybe even have a conversation and a drink together. That’s if she showed up. Oh lord she hoped she was planning on attending. Ann flung her wardrobe doors open, desperate to find something that would make her feel desireable.

Anne Lister was dressed in a sharp black tuxedo. No tails tonight. She’d decided against it. They seemed ostentatious to wear in a time when much of the country was still feeling the effects of a depression and this was a charity event after all. Getting out of the car, she advised Cordingley that she should be ‘wrapped up here in under an hour”. The flashbulbs went off as soon as she stepped out of the Rolls. Anne Lister was, after all, one of Yorkshire’s wealthiest, sexiest, and most interesting singletons. Upon entering the concert hall, she handed her hat and walking stick to a young coat check girl who was noticeably flustered when handing Anne back her ticket. She threw the girl an extra coin and told her to take special care of her items.  
“Y-Yes, Miss Lister”, the girl stammered.  
Anne winked at her before turning her attention to the throng of people gathered around the eight piece outfit playing gentle and popular radio favourites. Waiters carrying trays of hors d’oeuvres swirled around in graceful footfall, offering delicate morsels. Anne took a toast point with beef tartare on it before landing her sites on Eliza Priestley. She was speaking with someone animatedly. But, she couldn’t see who on account of Eliza’s giant and flamboyant fascinator. She decided to roll the dice. Always good to stay on Priestly’s good side after all and she may as well re-up her ‘good books’ status whilst she was here at an event she would have preferred to duck out of. She took a glass of Dom Perignon off the tray of another balletic waiter and head in.

“Anne Lister, I was hoping you’d show up tonight.” Eliza Priestley had cut herself off from whatever story she’d been sharing to address the imposing and handsome figure in front of her. “And don’t you look straight off of Saville Row. Where have you been the last year?”  
“Oh, here and there.”  
“I’d heard you’d been studying medicine in Paris.”  
“I may have dissected a body or two.”  
Eliza slapped Anne playfully on the arm. “Oh, you. I’m sorry, where are my manners? Anne Lister, this is Ann Walker, I know you haven’t seen each other in years.”  
Anne took a moment to drink in the sight of her Halifax neighbour. Her blonde hair was pulled up and back. She wore a plum coloured dress to match her lipstick. The silken fabric hugged her curves as if it loved the sacred geometry of the female form almost as much as Anne did. Though her eyes were bright and blue, Anne could see a shyness still living behind them. Taking Ann’s gloved hand to kiss, she said...”Miss Walker, I’ve been thinking about you lately.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am trying to keep things about the location of York (which I’ve chosen because it’s one of the bigger metropolitan hubs of Yorkshire and as such is a slightly better setting for a vigilante story) accurate. But I don’t live there (I’m an American living in England so I know some things but not ALL THE THINGS) and I certainly didn’t live there in the 1930s. So, some details will be inaccurate either because I just don’t know...or because it’s better for the story. For instance York, does not have a particularly old professional orchestra...but it does for this story. To be honest, this goes for a lot of the story choices. I’m doing a bit of research but this fic will hopefully be realistic enough for you to invest in...but do keep in mind it’s set in a comic book world as well. This pep talk is mostly for me as a writer who stresses about fact checking.
> 
> Thanks for reading this! I appreciate the comments and will aim to keep churning out chapters at LEAST once a week.


	3. June in January

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A dance, Tib, and a hopeful Aunt Anne.

“About me?”  
Anne Lister had just strode over, looking as handsome as a film star in her black tuxedo with a silken grey cravat, to tell her, Ann Walker, that she’d been thinking of her. She thought she might need a fainting couch from the swooning.  
“Yes, I was so sorry to read about your brother.”  
‘Ah, of course’, Ann thought. Anne Lister was paying a customary kindness. She had, for the evening, managed to put the heavy sadness and anxious fear she lived with over the murder of her older brother out of her mind and suddenly felt cruel for fleetingly forgetting her grief.  
“Oh, yes, of course”.  
“But what an awful thing to bring up when you must be trying to enjoy a night out. May I say that you look beautiful. The plum of your gown suits you well. Your eyes sparkle.”  
Ann found herself speechless at the compliment, which was fine as Eliza Priestley, society columnist for The Yorkshire Courier and longtime Halifax busybody cut sharply in. “Don’t they? I’m so glad this recluse dragged herself away from Lightcliffe. She hardly ever steps out apart from her volunteer hours, despite the fact that she is pure marriage material. How will you ever meet a husband if you don’t get out there? I keep telling her.”  
“Well, whatever you’ve said tonight, I’m so pleased it worked.”  
Anne had looked directly at her and Ann felt like her heart was about to explode.  
“Eliza you also look gorgeous tonight, of course”, Anne’s compliment poured like honey onto her desired target.  
“You old dog. You need to go and sniff elsewhere. I’m happily married, as you know”.  
“How is William?”  
“Never mind him,” Eliza swerved the conversation. “Our Miss Walker had a Gentleman Jack sighting last night!”  
“Really?” Anne feigned surprise.  
“I think so, yes,” Ann said.  
“Was it terribly frightening?”  
Eliza cut them both off…”Ann said he disappeared before she could even understand how he got there. But she said he DID look handsome under his mask.”  
Anne arched her eyebrow at that. “How can you be sure it was him?” she enquired, genuinely looking to ascertain whether she’d accidentally given anything away about her identity.  
“Well…it just matches what I’ve read in Eliza’s paper.”  
“The blinding light, the cape-like coat, the tall strong figure, the blazing ruby. It all fits the profile we’ve gathered,” Eliza quickly elucidated.  
The three chatted amicably for another few minutes. Finally, Eliza spotted another local celebrity, a manufacturer of rugs, and dashed over to get some gossip for her column, leaving Anne and Ann alone. They had finished their drinks and Ann Walker was now nervously twisting her hands. The band finished an up-tempo number and started to play “June in January”, some couples took to the dance floor.  
“Would you like to dance with me?” Anne proffered her arm. Ann took it and they made their way over. The older woman placed her hand on Ann’s waist and took her small hand in hers. Anne’s hands felt slightly calloused but warm and welcoming to Ann. The two swayed slowly to the sweet melody, Ann was having a hard time looking Anne directly in the eye and opted instead to pull herself in closer.  
The crooner sang out:  
A clouded moon creeps across the clouded sky  
Winds of January sigh and moan  
And yet it's June.  
I can see a sky of blue  
Dear the miracle is due to you.  
Just you.  
It's June in January  
Because I'm in love  
It always is spring in my heart  
With you in my arms.

Miss Lister’s cheek was soft and she smelled of cloves, black tea, and spruce. Her back and shoulders felt strong. Much stronger than her own and she couldn’t resist spreading her fingers out over the expanse.  
“You do look stunning tonight, Miss Walker. I hope you don’t mind me saying that I am pleased to see you. I was hoping I might steal you away for an opportunity such as this so I could chat with you. But I’m having such a lovely time I don’t want to spoil it by talking about anything important. Could I call on you in a couple of days ‘time? Do you think you might like to get some lunch with me?”  
Anne would not normally have pursued information about a case in this vein...the vein of actively chasing what might be construed as romantic intent in a witness...or even had lunch, to be fair. But there was something about Ann Walker that made her want to break her own rules and allow the distance to be diminished.  
“I would love that. Erm, the funeral for John is in two days’ time. Do you think we could say Friday?” Ann asked nervously.  
“That sounds ideal. I will, of course, pay my respects at the funeral as well. But, I know you’ll be busy and I hope that I can cheer you up then on Friday...with as much distraction as my chatter, a cream scone and good cake can provide, of course.”  
“It’s something I’ll look forward to, Miss Lister.”  
“You must call me Anne, if we are to be friends.”  
The short and sweet song ended. Anne took it as an opportunity to wrap up her business so she could get back to work. She politely thanked Ann for the dance and made her way back to the coat check. Ann Walker missed the warmth and closeness of Miss Lister, Anne, already.

“Where to, ma’am”? Cordingley awaited the destination knowing that Anne would come back with a fresh angle.  
“To the townhouse for tonight. We’ll go back to Shibden for Thursday. It’ll be John’s funeral. Obviously means that forensics are done with his body. I need to speak with Tib.”  
………………………………………………………………………………………………

Gentleman Jack landed with a thud on top of Tib’s car as she pulled onto her drive.

“Bloody hell!” Tib threw the door of her saloon open and rolled over on the ground, revolver pointed up at the bonnet.

“What the fuck are you doing here? At my home?”  
“I followed you from the station. We need to talk.”  
“Right now?”  
“Yes”  
“Well, get inside. You’ll raise eyebrows out here.”  
“I raise eyebrows everywhere. It’s kind of my thing.”  
Tib’s two bedroom end-terrace was littered with paperwork, cigarette butts, and empty bottles of whisky.  
Jack winced at the smell.  
“Come on, it’s not that bad. What are you going to tell me you have super smelling powers?”  
“No, just normal. Thank God. You shouldn’t drink this much, Isabella.”  
“Look, pal, it’s late. What is it you want? And could you at least call me Detective Norcliffe?”  
“John Walker. Have you managed to trace the registration of the gun?”  
“Yes. No. Sort of.” It’s a Webley Revolver.  
“A service weapon?”  
“It is. But the registered owner is dead and has been for five years,”  
“From the black market then?”  
“Possibly. Or they could have known the original owner. It’s hard to say.”  
Jack considered the ramifications. “My calculations have the shot being fired from near the entry door.”  
“How could you know that—-you know what? Never mind. I don’t want to know how you knew.”  
“The funeral is on Thursday. I take it forensics are done with their examinations. Can you get me a file?”  
“It’s not that easy.”  
“It can be. Meet me on the roof of the station tomorrow. I’ll be five minutes and I won’t leave your sight.”  
“Right.” Much as she hated to, Tib trusted Gentleman Jack with her life. She had to, really. Jack had saved her two years ago. But that’s a story for another time. “Fine. Just don’t be spotted.”  
“Have I ever been?”  
“Well...yes...twice by the press and once by a bystander with an amateur—“  
But by then Gentleman Jack had disappeared in a plume of smoke.  
“FUCK. KING. HELL. I do not like that.” Tib locked the door as she wheezed.

Anne was back at her York townhouse by the stroke of midnight. Much to her surprise, she found her aunt was still up and waiting.  
“Aunt. You should be sleeping.”  
“Probably. But I wanted to know.”  
“What? What couldn’t wait until morning?”  
“How did it go with Miss Walker?”  
Anne took a breath in. Shooting her aunt a knowing glance.  
“It went well, Aunt. I’m meeting her for lunch on Friday. But don’t get your hopes up. This is an investigation.”  
“Yes yes yes. I know. No reason to think differently.”  
Anne stopped...waiting for her Aunt to flinch...to break and smile. It didn’t come.  
The elder Anne Lister nodded with mock gravity as her niece passed to ascend the stairs to her bedroom. “Lunch! She must be something special.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, Lister Sisters, Misters, and General Resisters. Hope it's staying interesting!


	4. Unpicking the Knots

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our intrepid hero has to try and map out all the threads that she's collecting. This chapter includes a trip to a department store and cameos from some of our source show's characters.  
> Also, some fisticuffs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the UK, where I now live...they call what Americans call the 1st floor the 'ground floor'. Then, one level up is first floor. One level beyond is 2nd floor. So, what to me would be the third is to British folk the 2nd floor.  
> It is probably useful for American readers to know!  
> Thanks for reading.

The next day, a Wednesday, was drizzly with a chill and Anne cut breakfast short to get to her lab. She was soon looking over the perfume she’d discovered in John Walker’s office. She felt overwhelmed by the options that were in front of her. An undelivered gift of perfume, a new land purchase, a missing (possibly dead) wife, a gunshot wound from an intruder who seemingly had barely crossed the threshold of the townhouse before discharging his weapon, the weapon in question--a service weapon—possibly military—possibly stolen. And then there was Ann Walker, a sweet, kind woman...living in fear. She wondered what her sister Elizabeth was like. She supposed she’d have an opportunity to catch up with her Thursday, at the funeral and suss her out in person. It’d been years.

She decided she had two jobs today: learn the provenance of the perfume and visit the bank to uncover more of John’s financial records. One was doable by day and the other best under the cover of darkness.

She burst through the door of Brown’s department store before the doorman could open it.  
“Oops, sorry Sir...erm Miss”, the embarrassed doorman stepped aside.

There were racks of expensive dresses and gowns on one side of the aisle. On the other, there was a luxury display of lingerie. Anne looked at the price tag on a peachy pink bustier made of lace and satin. She fleetingly thought of Ann Walker and how her curves would fill it. ‘Hmmm’.  
Just as she was breaking herself away from her romantic distraction, a sales clerk came over.  
“Something for the wife—oh, Miss Lister. Apologies. I had just seen you from behind and, erm...”  
“It’s fine. I don’t need any help. Thank you anyway. Just browsing.”  
“Of course, just shout if you need anything”, the flustered young female clerk offered.  
“Don’t worry, I will”. 

She followed her nose over to the perfume counter. “Bellodgia Caron. I'm looking to purchase it. A gift for a friend. But, you see, I want to make sure they don't already have a bottle. Can you maybe tell me about the last people you've sold it to...if you can recall them?" Anne blinked with in benign sincerity.

The woman behind the counter was early twenties, a brunette with a voluptuous figure thick lashes. She eyed Anne Lister up and down hungrily. It took Anne back a bit. She was unaccustomed to being the subject of wolfish glances, typically being the one giving them.  
The woman’s name tag read ‘Sophie’. 

“I'm afraid we're currently out of stock. I sold the last bottle personally. It was...maybe a month ago. A young man and an even younger woman. I'm sorry to disappoint you."

"Hmm...shame. But, before I go off to another shop to look for it, perhaps you could tell me what they looked like. I might make a guess if it was my friend."  
"He was blonde. A moustache but only just barely. She called him John. She was..." Sophie paused, considering how to aptly describe the young woman..."not my type. She was nineteen? Twenty? I've actually seen her dance at Lawton's."  
"Really?" Anne paused thoughtfully.  
"Surprised a woman like me would be in a place like that? Or surprised that I have a type of woman?"  
"I assure you, nothing surprises me," Anne lied.  
"Her name is something like...Candice. Of course, that might not be her real name. A lot of the girls there use fake ones. Anyway, I'm sure I have something else for you, if you'd care to look", Sophie raised an eyebrow and lightly brushed Anne's hand with her own.  
Her skin was soft and warm and Anne couldn’t help but appreciate the way the curve of her breasts looked in the warm, soft, lilac cashmere cardigan she was wearing. Attractive women had always been Anne’s Achilles’ Heel.

“Another time...Miss...”  
“Ferrall. Sophie Ferrall. Here’s my card.”  
Anne smiled and pocketed it. “I’ll look forward to it.”

“Lawton’s”, Anne thought. She hadn’t been there since Mariana had ended it with her. It had all been too painful. But that was in the past. “Focus, Lister”, she told herself as she made the walk in the brisk morning air from the high street over to the townhouse. She’d instructed Cordingley to meet her there in the afternoon. 

She used the thirty minute hike through the town centre to sharpen her thoughts around the case. All the details were swirling around her head. One important piece, the whereabouts of Emily Walker, hadn’t really even been begun to be parsed through yet. She wondered if that’s the thing she should focus on next. The woman could have been abducted and currently sitting in a cellar somewhere. Or she might be the killer, she’d seen marriages end in murder before. Or she might be dead. She decided she would set her sights on finding yet another lead for yet another thread. But that would have to start tomorrow. Tonight was the bank.

................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................

When midnight fell, she instructed Cordingley to leave the car eight streets away from the bank. It would be close enough for a getaway but far away enough that it wouldn't be associated with any misadventure should things go wrong for any reason. There was a route she had meticulously planned from roof-top to roof-top where she would remain unseen before making a descent into the bank. 

Crish crush Jack's leather boots hit the final rooftop, a church’s, before the last leap to the bank. Her great coat billowed behind her in the frosty wind. Her silhouette stood out sharply against the bright full moon. Though she was dressed in her armour and gear, her skin prickled against the chill. She had trained herself to remain calm in situations like this but something felt off. She gazed down at the Bank of York from her vantage point of the church steeple. She had planned on going in through an office window on the third floor, an area she knew to be unarmed. But looking at the building now, she could see the back entrance was open. There was an unmarked car behind the bank on the street. There was a man behind the wheel. No one she recognized. She took out her binoculars and cast her gaze into the ground floor windows. Two men of fairly sizeable proportions. They wore masks. One flight up there was a man rifling through an office. Then...the second floor. No one. No alarm bells were going off. They must have disabled the system somehow. Odd.

She took a small camera out of a pouch on her belt and snapped as many images as she could. Then she grappled over to the bank and quietly entered the upper offices window. She had two problems now. Unwelcome intruders in the bank (well, besides herself) and finding what she was looking for. She decided it was best to deal with the possible physical trouble first. She crept down a flight of stairs, straining her ears to pinpoint the movement on the floor. She heard the filing cabinets open and shut, papers being rustled about. A man mumbling. He was deeply interested in what he was doing and Jack used that to her advantage. He hadn't noticed her presence yet at all and she swiftly crept around to the desk behind him. Once in position, she leapt out and wrapped her arms around his thick neck. Driving her foot into the back of his knee , he lost all his balance and his weight relaxed into her forearms. He was incapacitated for now and she set him down as carefully as she could. She rifled through his coat and found an identity card. Martin Hill. No one she knew. She took a photo of him before turning her attention to the papers he was rifling through. Land documents and surveys. She quickly took photos and left to investigate the other two men. She stealthily approached a balconied area looking down to the ground floor and spotted a high internal window ledge that looked strong enough to support her. She hoisted herself over and observed what the two outhouse-sized mooks were doing. One was cracking open safe deposit boxes and the other one was keeping watch at the door. She knew she'd need to move swiftly if she had a chance of catching them off guard.  
She pounced from the ledge, landing on the behemoth cracking the boxes beneath her. Her legs wrapped around his neck and she swiftly shifted her wait to spin around. She delivered a quick and brutal strike to his solar plexus taking his breath away. She dropped down and spun to sweep his legs from under him. Falling with a thud of head on marble flooring, he was out for the count. Unfortunately the noise had drawn the attention of the lookout.

“Si? What's up? Simon are you there?”

Jack crawled behind a desk and waited to see which way he was going to move. Left. She moved to the right, sending her directly into a man she'd met before. There was a fourth man. Someone she hadn’t spotted. Crashing into him, she recognized him immediately. He wasn’t covering his face. It was Mark Robinson. A mountain of man, slavering, brutal, disgusting. She'd help put him in jail several years ago but now, from the looks of it...he was out. He picked her up by her jacket collar.  
"What do we have here then? Looks like you need to find your way home, Jack." He threw her hard against the cold marble. She felt it in her ribs. He was on her again before she could react. He picked her up by the lapels and shoved her against a pillar. He delivered a lumbering right hook to Jack’s face, sending her to the floor. Reaching into her belt, she grabbed and threw a smoke bomb in an effort to get to her feet and find a new vantage point. But the gorilla was quicker than he looked and, though coughing and wheezing, he still managed to grab her leg and drag her across the floor. She pulled her cane off of her belt and hit a button on it, allowing it to go from collapsed to an expanded five foot long weapon. She twisted her torso and sent it straight into Robinson's 'family jewels'. Groaning, he fell to his knees. Within seconds, he was vomiting. In the meantime, the third man--the man at the door had run out to the car. She heard the wheels screech on the pavement and knew they were gone.  
"Absolute tosspot", she growled before stepping over to Mark who had curled himself into a foetal position. She turned her headlamp on, blinding him and obscuring herself. She kicked him sharply in the ribs. 

Rolling over he swore at her “Dirty fucking Jack.”  
Before he knew what was happening, she'd hogtied him and had her knee in the small of his back.

"What were you looking for here?" She raged at him like thunder in a low and throaty voice.  
"I wasn't looking for anything. The one who was is laid flat over there with a bleeding head. Why don't you ask him? Oh, you can't."  
"Who are you working for?"  
"As if I'd tell you", he laughed at Jack.  
With the throw of a hook and the click of a button he suddenly found himself zipping along the marble and hanging upside down from the balcony.  
"Cut me down you maniac!" He writhed like a worm on a hook.  
"Tell me who you're working for."  
"I can't....what...where are you going?"  
Jack grappled up to the balcony and stood above where the cord was fixed.  
"These are wire cutters. I'm going to start paring this cord down, filament by filament. If you don't spit up a name by the time I count to ten, I'll have severed this and you'll have broken your neck."  
"You wouldn't. You don’t’ kill people. They say you don’t.”  
"How do you know what I've gotten away with?" She sneered. "One...two...three...four...five...".  
She worked the cutters through the taught cord.  
"OK OK. Stop! Stop it! It's The Magistrate".  
'Which magistrate?"  
"I don't know his name. He's just called The Magistrate. I swear to God!"  
With that, Jack threw another smoke bomb, collected the safe deposit box that 'Si' had been working on and exited up the stairs and out the window.  
"Hey...cut me down. Cut me down!"  
But she was gone.


	5. The Funeral of John Walker

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein we meet a gentle scolding from Aunt Anne, encounter Marian, and pay our respects to the lovely Miss Walker all whilst trying to get to the bottom of an increasingly confounding investigation.

Thursday morning was John Walker's funeral in Halifax. Though he resided in York, his sisters had wanted to bury him at the church local to their childhood home. Anne woke up in York with an aching and bruised jaw and cheekbone. Her ribs were tender but not as bad as they could have been. Her flak vest had helped cushion the previous night’s violence ever so slightly. Aunt Anne came to her in the morning with a tray of toast, bacon, and tea.

"How did you know exactly what I needed?" Anne sat up in bed and reached for the tray.   
"You left a bloodied cloth in the laundry hamper. I wish you'd get me up to help when you hurt yourself in these frays you constantly manage to get into."  
"It's not as bad as it looks, Aunt."  
“I thought you were supposed to be stealthy.”  
“I am. I’m very stealthy. It’s just…sometimes I’m not.”  
Anne the elder took her niece's face gently in one hand and gazed thoughtfully at it through her bifocals. "You'll need a bit of make-up today so you don't go to the funeral looking like Jack Dempsey."  
"I'll try to cover it up as best I can. Otherwise, you know I'm brilliant with a cover story." Anne gave her a wide smile and flinched. “Ooh. That is a bit tender”.

Anne walked into York. Her brisk pace was automatic and she moved through the cold condensation of the morning fog with purpose. The newest puzzle piece was the identity of The Magistrate. Was it a code name? Was it connected to the murder at all or was what Gentleman Jack had walked into at the bank an entirely different scheme. The hired goon squad HAD been after paperwork attached to John Walker. So, she decided to make the link. If the little exercise in espionage and theft that she'd interrupted at the bank was any indicator, she was right to do so. The land deeds that she'd pinched back off of the first thug, Martin Hill, had indeed been the exact property that John Walker had bid on in Hull. She was planning on cracking open the box she'd grabbed off of the second thug later this evening at Shibden after returning from the funeral. She was desperately hoping that SOMETHING in it would lead her to Emily Walker. It was making her increasingly nervous that the woman hadn't been found yet.

She reached the flower shop and looked for something that she thought would bring Ann a bit of beauty and cheer. She opted to send lilies and gladioli to the church and also picked a bouquet of red and white roses to present to Ann personally. "Too much?" She wondered. The thought of making Ann Walker smile warmed her heart and she couldn’t help herself. "No...We’re not alive if we're not taking the odd risk." She wanted her to know that she wasn't just there as a family friend. Coming out of the florists, she caught a camera flash out of the corner of her eye and heard its giveaway shutter click. Anne was used to the attention of people in general. She was found to be endlessly fascinating by the local society circles and the papers loved to write about her in the gossip columns. Often described as a 'dapper and alluring oddity', she didn't mind being talked about. But, getting caught unawares by cameras was a new challenge. Who was taking the photo and for what purpose? It put her on edge. She spotted the perpetrator walking away at speed and debated chasing after him to see what he wanted but she suspected that it might raise a scene. She decided to hope for the best. Perhaps he was just taking a photo of the shop.

She arrived at Shibden with Cordingley at noon. The funeral service was scheduled for 2PM, not far from the Lightcliffe Estate. Anne put on her black suit and cravat and pulled her hair back into a low bun. She looked handsome, solemn, and stately. Her sister, Marian, was at the Hall. "John Walker's funeral?" She asked as she walked into Anne’s bedroom, observing her sister in a clumsy attempt to apply some cream to her red and bruised cheekbone. "Here, let me help."  
"It's fine, Marian. I can do it."  
"Not really. This shade is too light for you. You look like a clown."  
"I do not."  
"If you keep at it, yes...you're going to look like a circus runaway. Which isn't entirely off the mark."  
Anne rolled her eyes.   
Marian took hold of her chin.   
“Ow. Be gentle, grabbyhands.”  
"I suppose you're...working an angle by going to the funeral today?" Marian questioned her older sister.  
"I know you don't like to know details about my work... But, no. Not today. I just felt I should go."  
"Oh, well I thought you would've used the opportunity to--"  
"I'm meeting Miss Walker for lunch tomorrow."  
"Oh of course. There it is. And are you pursuing that lunch for intelligence or to creep on Miss Walker?"  
"I don't creep on anyone, Marian."  
"Right. Tell that to Mrs. Barlow."  
"I don't. I wouldn't do that to Ann Walker. Now, if you're done, I'd like to continue getting ready for the funeral thank you. I'll send your regards."  
"Right. Well, I suppose I'll see you later if you're decamping back here tonight. Try not to get mud on the stairs. Or blood. Or gunshot residue."  
With that, Marian left.  
"Hmm. It does look better", Anne grudgingly admitted to herself examining her cheekbone in the mirror.

She walked into the church at 1:52PM and found a seat in a pew near the back. She saw some familiar faces in the rows ahead of her. Eliza and William Priestley were there. The manservant at Ann Walker's estate, James McKenzie sat near the middle. The Sutherlands were near the altar. Anne recognized Elizabeth...a handsome slender woman surrounded by loud children. There were Rawsons scattered everywhere. She noticed Christopher Rawson at Ann's side, briefly consoling her before re-joining his brother Jeremiah to chat in whispers. Ann was quietly sobbing and clutching a prayer book. Her eyes were cast downwards and she had not spotted Anne's entrance. 

The service was solemn and tasteful. Anne watched Ann Walker sniffle through some of the hymns, trying her best to bring her chin up and face the pulpit. Afterwards, Anne waited in the background for an appropriate time to approach. Ann caught sight of her whilst she was talking to her elderly Aunt Ann. Her blue eyes widened and she drew a sharp little breath. Her aunt wandered over to speak with more family and Anne stepped over.

"Miss Walker", Anne leaned in to kiss Ann's gloved hand. She produced a handkerchief to give to Ann.  
"Miss Lister...Anne."  
"Ann. The service was touching. Your brother was much loved." Anne kept Ann's hand in hers and gently warmed and rubbed it between her own.  
"Yes, he was," she stepped closer to Anne, letting the gentle massage calm her, Anne's dark brown eyes swallowing her whole. "I can't believe he's gone."  
"They'll find who did it. I'm confident." Anne immediately felt the pressure build in her shoulders. She desperately wanted to bring peace to the gentle, sweet woman who stood before her. "These are for you." Anne proffered the roses she'd purchased. "I sent some funeral flowers in advance but I...wanted you to have something to take home and brighten up your room."  
"Oh, Anne, they're beautiful. Th-thank you." She yearned to step into Anne's embrace and feel her strong arms around her, holding her, breathing her in, and absorbing her warmth. But, the surroundings forced the desire away. "Erm...tomorrow...for lunch. Would it be OK if you came to Crow Nest? I...just think it might be nice to..."  
"Of course. I should be happy to meet you there. You don't have to give any excuse as to why. I'd be the same", Anne assured her.  
"I'll have the kitchen make us some sandwiches and scones." Ann looked up at her. "Did you hurt yourself?" She reached up and gently touched Anne's cheekbone.  
"Ah, yes. That." She mentally cursed Marian's make-up skills. "I took a tumble off of my motorbike. Too much gravel on the back roads around the estate."  
"Oh, I'm sorry."  
"It's nothing. It looks worse than it feels. I shall see you tomorrow, Ann. Noon?"  
"Yes, I'll be waiting."  
Anne smiled broadly, wincing from the pain in her jaw ever so slightly, kissed her hand again, and took her leave. She passed Elizabeth at the door.

"Mrs. Sutherland. Anne Lister…from Shibden”, she introduced herself.   
“I remember you, Miss Lister. Thank you for coming.”  
“My family also send their condolences. You have our deepest sympathies. I’m sure what’s happened has come as a shock. Have the police been helpful at all?”  
“Not exactly. I’m sure it’s not easy for them but they do seem stalled. They keep just assuring us that they’re following up on leads.”  
“Hmmm…had you noticed any aberrant behaviour from John in the weeks preceding?”  
“No. He’d been so excited about his honeymoon. He’d almost finished the paperwork on some acquisition. Christopher…Rawson, you know, our cousin…he’d been advising John against it. But John was set on it. He was happy. He was feeling ‘up’.”  
“I hope you don’t think I’m being intrusive. But what of Emily? No sign?”  
“No, nothing. The police don’t seem to know what to make of it. Apparently there’s no trace. I will say this, her favourite necklace is gone. It was an heirloom, not particularly valuable in a monetary sense…but she was sentimental about it. When the police swept the place it was the ONLY thing missing. Struck me as odd but I don’t know what to make of it.”  
“That is strange. Well, I’ve taken up so much of your time. I know you need to be with family. I hope I see you under happier circumstances soon, Mrs. Sutherland.”  
With that, Anne was off.

Anne arrived back at Shibden at 4:24 PM. She went straight to the lockbox that she’d scooped at the bank. She jimmied it open with a lock pick and found three items:  
A small camera with film still inside it, a collection of antique coins, and a tersely worded bit of correspondence from Rawson Brothers Corp signed by Christopher Rawson.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for keeping up with the story!   
> I think I might start doing 'previously' style brief recaps at the start of new chapters. As a comics reader, I often found them useful. Would that enhance the reading experience, do we think? A week between chapters isn't soooo far apart that you forget the details, but if you're reading a billion of these fanfics at a time, as I do, it might be good...Let me know!


	6. Lawton's

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Going to try this 'previously on' idea. Let me know if it seems useful!
> 
> This chapter has some M content in it. Honestly, what's the difference between M and E? Let me know if anything I write is more explicit than mature and I'll adjust the rating...

PREVIOUSLY…  
John Walker, Ann Walker and Elizabeth Sutherland’s brother, was shot in his own home upon returning from honeymoon with his wife Emily. Emily is currently MIA. Anne Lister is growing closer to her Halifax neighbour, Ann Walker, a move that’s fine for her life as Yorkshire’s most eligible woman but more complicated when you consider her secret vigilante persona Gentleman Jack, who is working the Walker case. The Magistrate, a figure whose identity is unknown (to Anne at least if not you, dear reader), was behind a recent theft at the Bank of York. Land deeds and financial information pertinent to John Walker was stolen. Isabella (Tib) Norcliffe is Anne’s friend and Gentleman Jack’s confidante, although the ragged and overworked Detective hasn’t connected the two.  
Anne has learned more about John Walker’s life….a possible affair with a woman he bought perfume for…a firearm used at his murder that is possibly police or military, a missing wife, and interesting land manoeuvres. The pieces feel more disparate than ever, but Jack is grabbing them all tight.  
Anne Lister has just attended John Walker’s funeral and is making busy for the second half of her day. 

...................................................

After a quick and perfunctory dinner, Anne made her plans for the evening. She began by phoning her old friend, Detective Isabella Norcliffe. The police officer picked up at the station.  
"Anne?"  
"Tib. We're going out tonight."  
"We are?”  
"Yes. Lawton's. Put on your glad rags, you old scoundrel. I need to stretch my legs and soak in some sights."  
"Well, OK. I could use a break to be honest. I’ve been slaving away on this case. I haven’t had a day off--"  
"--I'll be outside of yours in the car at 9PM sharp."  
“Right, OK”, Tib said to the dial tone on the other end. “Nice talking to you.”

Anne made her way over to Shibden’s stables.  
"Cordingley."  
The faithful servant rolled out on a dolly from underneath the Jackmobile. "Yes ma'am?"  
"We're going back to York tonight."  
"Will you be needing full kit ma'am?"  
"Yes. We'll be returning here to Shibden tonight as well. Late.”  
"Yes ma'am."  
"On top of that, I'll need you to instruct the kitchen. I'm paying Miss Walker a house call tomorrow. Please have them prepare a basket of pork pies, vegetable quiches, and fresh fruit. Have Booth run it over when it’s ready."  
"Yes ma'am". 

Anne returned to her bedroom to get ready for her evening at Lawton's. The nightclub was famous for its jazz and burlesque acts. It was there that Anne had first met Mariana. But, she was hoping to avoid her tonight and set her eyes on another young dancer, Candice. A woman that she suspected John Walker had been stepping out with. Anne put on a black suit, a red cravat, and a new pair of spats that her aunt had purchased for her. She grabbed her cane, head to the Phantom, opened the door and sat in the back. Seconds later, Cordingley took the driver's seat.  
The two took the journey in near silence, slicing through the dark of the Yorkshire moors between Halifax and York.  
Anne stepped out of the Rolls to fetch Tib. She turned around and said to Cordingley. "Go to the townhouse, ready the vox box and the rest of my gear. Fetch us from Lawton’s at 11. Tib and I will walk to the club."  
"Yes Ma'am".  
"You know the signal if I need a quick getaway."  
"Ma'am."  
"Thank you, Cordingley. Oh, and Cordingley, I appreciate how hard you've been working. When this wraps, I promise you'll have two weeks off."  
"Thank you, Ma'am.”

Tib came out in a natty blue pin-striped suit.  
"Looking to score some action tonight then? Nice threads."  
"Let me tell you. My nerves are shot this week. Even if I could find a squeeze, I'm not sure I'd have the energy to seal the deal. I've been on duty for ten days straight."  
"What's going on then?"  
"Oh you don't want to hear work stuff. Let's just say it's been stressful for me in particular. Unwelcome visitors...a case no one within the syndicate can seem to crack...and I can't get the permits to hit a location that I deem to be of interest. So..."  
"What location?"  
"Blah. A warehouse of the Rawsons. There's been a witness in an unrelated report who said they hear noises late one night. But so what, right? Anyway, you don’t need to hear these nightmares."  
"Well. Here's to a good Thursday night then."  
"What have you been up? I haven't seen much of you since you got back to Old Blighty last year".  
"I know. I'm sorry about that."  
"French girls too much of a challenge, eh?"  
Anne gave her a smirk and a sideways glance.  
"No. I'll have you know I did absolutely fine for myself over there. In fact--"  
"Oh, here we go."  
"In fact. If you were to go to Paris you might find yourself presently surprised. The social mores are much more lax over there. There's not as much gossip about women like us. It's more accepted. Appreciated even."  
"Well, in that case, you simply must take me to the continent so we can visit the salons of high society dahhhhling" Tib affected a snobbish voice.

The two well turned out ladies were greeted at Lawton's by a doorman.  
"Miss Lister. Miss Norcliffe. Been a while."  
The burly bald-headed man opened the velvet rope for the two of them.  
As they stepped in, the sounds of a jazz trombone could be heard bouncing off the walls. A cocktail waitress in a feathery dress hurried past them with a tray full of martinis.  
"I'll never know how they do that. I couldn't carry that tray let alone on heels," Tib remarked.  
"I don't know what you mean, dear friend, you're grace personified."  
Tib thumped Anne on the shoulder.

"Miss Lister, let me show you to a table near the front." The hostess near the door recognized Anne immediately. The three cut through the busy lounge. Anne noted the burlesque dancer currently high-kicking on the stage. She was twirling an umbrella and the crowd were hooting and whistling.  
"Is it burlesque all night long?" Anne asked the hostess as they took their seats.  
"It is indeed. Until 1AM when we have last orders, of course. I'll have a waitress come and take your order momentarily".  
The waitress, a short blonde woman with a bobbed haircut came over almost immediately. Anne Lister had a good reputation at Lawton’s for leaving the wait staff fat tips.  
"What can I get you two handsome ladies tonight?" The cocktail waitress flirted shamelessly.  
"Two sidecars, please," Anne handed the cocktail menus back.  
"And two shots of whiskey," Tib added.  
"Tib. It is only a Thursday."  
"Oh and you're busy doing WHAT exactly tomorrow, Lister? Nursing this hangover and bossing your staff around?" Tib clapped Anne hard on the back.

When the waitress returned with their sidecars, Anne made sure to ask who was on the bill.  
"Why? Are you looking for someone special, handsome?" The waitress winked.  
"Oh, I'd just been telling my friend here about one of the girls and wondered if she might be doing a turn tonight."  
"What? No you--"  
Anne kicked Tib quickly under the table.  
"Oh okay. I see. Being a good wingman then”, the waitress smirked. “Well, you've got Melinda up next and then after her is Candice. Rosie closes the whole night".  
"Right. Thank you so much."  
Anne smiled as the waitress walked away.  
"What was that about, mate?" Tib asked conspiratorially. "Don't tell me it's such a sexual famine that you're going stalking now."  
"Not...exactly. I just, have heard about a dancer that's great and wanted to see if we were in luck tonight. That's all."  
Tib settled back into her chair with her drink, swallowing about half of it with her first gulp. The night carried on and the two friends found the laughs and chat flowing easily. Anne had stopped drinking after two rounds and Tib had stopped noticing. 

"And now, ladies and gentleman...for your delights and delectation...please welcome to the stage, CANDY GIRL," the compere encouraged the applause as a petite but curvy red-headed woman took to the stage. Anne sat to attention. The band started to play Cole Porter's 'You're the Top'. Candice was dressed in a red silk dress...to start with. It soon came off in a flourish as she hot-stepped to the song. Soon her act was taking her to the tables in the lounge. Leaning on laps and stroking the cheeks of some of the men in the front row. She soon found Anne and Tib's table and sat on Tib's knee. She fingered her tie and pressed closer into her. Tib's cheeks were flushed and her smile threatened to overcome her face. Candice turned to Anne and set her sparkling green eyes on Anne's deep brown ones to warble the lyrics "Cuz if baby I'm the bottom, you're the top."  
‘Candy Girl’ returned to the stage and sang two more songs. By the time she was done, she was down to lacy red knickers and nothing but a strategically held giant feather covering her top half.

"Wow, she's really something. No wonder you wanted to see if she was on the bill. Did you see how she sat in my lap?" Tib talked about Candice for the duration of the next act. Anne knew that this was the Candice that Sophie from the perfume counter had mentioned and that she had to make a move now to carry on her work. She convinced Tib that it was time for her to go as well. Cordingley was waiting for them outside of the club. Anne walked Tib to her door. "Sleep it off, lady-killer. Have sweet dreams of petite red-heads." 

Before long, the suit was on and Jack was crouched on a rooftop near Lawton's. She spied Candice leaving out of the back entrance of the club. "I'll be fine, Micky. I walk home all the time. You know it's only a few minutes from here." The door shut and she stopped to light a cigarette. Her match dropped out of her fingers as she suddenly felt her feet leave the ground. "Oh God! Aaaaiiiiiiee! Help, "the woman shrieked as Jack scooped her from the street level and swung them both back up to the rooftop. "Please don't hurt me. What is it you want? Heeelp!" Jack quickly grabbed her back in her arms and covered her mouth with a gloved hand. 

"I'm not going to hurt you. I just want to talk, Candice."  
"You’re him. Her. Him? You’re Gentleman Jack. How do you know my name? I haven't done anything illegal. I'm just a dancer. I don't get into anything else here. I swear."  
Anne quickly activated the vox box…giving her a lower, gravelly tone.  
"I promise, you're safe." Jack slowly loosened her grip on the woman and let Candice gain some distance between them.  
"I need to know how you are acquainted with John Walker."  
"John's dead."  
"I know that Candice. I want to find out who did it."  
"You...you don't think they're after me next."  
"How do you know him, Candice?"  
"He's my brother in law."  
"Emily Walker didn't have any siblings."  
"Not on the record...no. But, we shared a father. They knew it'd been rough for me growing up. We didn't have a lot of money. It's always been easier for Emily. She was the legitimate daughter. They found out about me...well…I contacted them…maybe five years ago."  
"So they helped you. How?"  
"Financially...emotionally. I was getting to know Emily better. John would buy me things. He'd recently taking me shopping for things."  
"What kind of things?"  
"Cosmetics. Perfume. Clothes. I'm going to be attending a secretarial college starting this year."  
"Your sister. Have you heard from her?"  
"No and it's making me lose my marbles."  
"Does anyone else know of your family connection?"  
"No. Well...a couple of my girlfriends. But not like...my boss or the police or anything".  
"There's a necklace missing from their townhouse. Do you know where it's gone?"  
"No. I swear I don't have it. That necklace was given to her by her mother. She had it always."  
"Thank you, Candice. Oh, and you really shouldn't walk home by yourself this late at night. But if you have to, keep these. Keep them accessible". Jack gave her a key ring with a pointed spike and a whistle.  
"What happens now?"  
"The next thing you are going to feel is waking up safely in your bed." The last thing Candice saw was a flourish of Jack's coat.

Ann Walker had found the day’s events unsurprisingly stressful and sad. After the funeral and the gathering that had followed, she ascended the stairs of Crow Nest, her spacious and tasteful home. She'd let herself pass an hour in a hot bath. She melted into the steam and breathed in the perfumed scent of the bubbles. The therapeutic effect had the additional benefit of letting positive thoughts push their way to the front of her mind. She was both nervous and excited for Miss Lister's...Anne's lunchtime visit. She hoped she wouldn't embarrass herself. She hoped that Anne would like what she was serving. She hoped that this wouldn't be their one and only lunch tomorrow. How could she get her to repeat the invitation, she wondered whilst she put on her long white night gown.

Anne Lister was the one that had suggested they move over to the settee. "Sit next to me", she had said to Ann, patting the velvet cushion by her side. Anne had arrived wearing a navy blue suit with a flowered cravat. She smelled delicious. How could one woman be so striking? Ann found everything about her utterly perfect. Her voice, her intellect, her strong body. Ann could always observe it in her posture and her gait but she’d been able to feel it for herself when they were occupying the dance floor the other night. Ann's heart leapt. Was this actually going to happen? Was Anne Lister going to try to be physically intimate with her? No. They were simply moving over to more comfortable furniture after their luncheon. That was all.  
Anne was asking her about her charity work and how she managed to keep up with her estate. She wanted to know her interests, her annoyances, her passions. She asked to see her sketches. Ann was talking animatedly when Anne Lister’s eyes drew darker. She noted her licking her lips and opening them ever so slightly and before she knew it, she was kissing her. Anne Lister had planted a kiss on her lips. It was quick and sweet yet felt…full. Anne Lister looked at her as if a big question mark was hanging over her head. She wanted to know if this was what Ann wanted. A thousand times yes. Ann pushed forward into her immediately. Pressing her mouth on Anne’s. Her soft lips moving with hers. Ann pushed her tongue past Anne’s lips and found Anne’s eagerly meeting hers. Anne’s strong hands were on her body—one on her hip and the other one under her arm and on the centre of her back, bringing each other ever closer.  
Ann felt her own hips start to undulate—an automatic response—her whole body flushing with pins and needles.  
Surprising herself, she swung her leg over to the other side of Anne’s lap. Now straddling the woman she’d silently fantasized about for over a decade, she felt herself thrusting her core against her. She let herself rock into Anne’s body when suddenly she felt Anne’s do the same. Their kisses growing more passionate, Ann could hear herself making tiny mews and moans. She held Anne’s face in her hand, softly and tenderly and knowingly around her bruised jaw. She didn’t want to ever let it go. Anne dropped her kisses from her mouth to Ann’s ivory neck. She felt her breast being massaged by nimble fingers and Anne’s hips a powerful, steady undulation beneath her. She felt like she was riding the ocean.  
She was filled with a kaleidoscope of butterflies as she heard Anne say ‘I’ve wanted you for so long, Ann. I want to have you just like this.” Anne’s hands were moving now. She was pulling Ann into her with one hand pressed in the centre of her back and the other moving up her skirt and then it was cupping her on the outside of her knickers.  
“Please…please. I want this”, she heard her voice whine into Anne’s ear.  
Anne deftly moved her cotton knickers aside, continuing to pepper kisses on Ann’s neck. She gasped as she found the slick, warm wetness awaiting her.  
“Oh Miss Walker, you do want this.” She let a finger move softly through Ann’s folds, collecting all she could and bringing the girl writhing on her lap closer and closer to bliss.  
“Oh my sweet girl, you feel like heaven in my hands.”  
Ann felt her sighs becoming reedier and faster.  
“Do you want me inside you, Ann?”  
“Yes. Yes. Please. Don’t stop.”  
Anne Lister slid her warm and wet middle finger right into her centre.  
Ann jolted as if she’d come awake for the first time ever. “Oh God. Oh God!”  
And that’s when Ann Walker woke with a start.  
“Oh lord”, she said to no one and went to get herself a glass of water.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the comments and for reading this latest instalment. I wanted to let more of the romance into this story because if I were reading it I'd be like...get with the sexy times, already.
> 
> So, hopefully this is a nice little oasis until...further romps.


	7. Tea for Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Previously, our hero, Gentleman Jack, visited Lawton’s (a jazz bar and club) as her civilian identity…playgirl and Yorkshire’s most eligible bachelorette, Anne Lister. She downed several drinks with her long-time friend, Detective Tib Norcliffe (Tib downed even more drinks). She scored two bits of intel that night. The bombshell burlesque act who’d previously been spotted with John Walker (RIP) was actually Emily Walker’s long lost half-sister. The Walkers had recently become aware of her existence and were helping her financially. She also gleaned from a sloppy Tib that there had been noise complaints connected to a Rawson Brothers warehouse. Could it be connected to The Magistrate? The arch-villain possibly behind John’s untimely death? She was determined to find out. Meanwhile, Ann Walker continues to pine for her life-long crush who is visiting her for lunch today.

"You can't monopolize the servants with all of your...activities, Anne. You know, the running of this estate is just as important as...well, whatever it is you're getting up to night after night." Marian clamoured after Anne as she passed her in the foyer and hoofed it up the stairs.  
"I'm not 'monopolizing' them, Marian.” Anne paused on the stairs to deliver her sister the message. “They have plenty of time to do both. In fact, they LIKE being part of the mission, thank you very much. Gives them a better sense of purpose."  
"Oh, I'm sure they love spending hours looking after your car and sewing up your wounds….and…and…putting themselves in danger!"  
"I sew up my own wounds, Marian."  
"It doesn't matter. Just stop bossing them around and making them do ridiculous and risky things outside of their remit."  
Anne slammed the door. She didn't need Marian getting in her head. She had a busy day and night ahead of her. She did her best to keep Marian out of her business, not only because she had a low tolerance for the mithering her sister gave her but because Marian disapproved of Anne's other identity and didn't want to know. Though the sisters cared for each other, their communications were often curt, through gritted teeth, and with a forced and transparent amicability. She grabbed her walking stick and top hat, gloves and great coat and head down the stairs. 

She passed Cordingley by the Jackmobile. "Cordingley. If you can collect me from Miss Walker's at 2:20PM, we'll head back to York and then later to Skelton.  
"Ma'am." Cordingley went back to polishing the headlamps.  
"Oh, and if you could ensure that my utility packs are all restocked. I used a smoke bomb the other night and you know I like to keep three on me."  
"Ma'am."  
"Cordingley."  
"Yes Ma'am".  
Anne considered her words. "Do you enjoy doing this? This work for me?"  
Cordingley paused her task and stood up to address her mistress. "Have I done something wrong?" She wiped her hands worriedly on the rag she was holding.  
"No. It's just, it's occurred to me that this wasn't necessarily a choice for you. I just dropped you in it when I began my mission. Didn't I? I've never stopped to see if you were...managing it all."  
"Yes. The work brings me a lot of satisfaction. Your family has been good to me. I'm glad to be out of the kitchen and seeing a bit more beyond Shibden. The adventures are good. It reminds me of when we used to travel together."  
Anne gave a short nod of approval. "Hm. Thank you Cordingley".  
"Ma'am."

"Stupid Marian", Anne mumbled under her breath as she walked away towards the back roads which would take her to Lightcliffe.  
…………………………………………………………………………………………………..

James Mackenzie opened the door to Crow Nest.  
"Mr. Booth."  
"Good morning Mr. Mackenzie. These are with compliments from Miss Lister at Shibden Hall." He handed over a large basket containing freshly baked pork pies, casseroles, quiches, fruit, and macarons.  
"Thank you. I'll take them through to the kitchen."  
John Booth turned to walk away but stopped himself to say "Ah...Mr. Mackenzie. There is one thing. The girls in the kitchen told me to take these to Lightcliffe. So, I mistakenly took the basket to The Priestley residence first. It was my mistake. But, Mrs. Priestley did read the card before shouting me back. So, if Miss Walker wants to know why the envelope has been opened, that's why."  
"I'll let her know. Thank you Mr. Booth."

"Miss Walker." James announced his presence as he knocked on the door to the light and spacious drawing room. Ann, on the other side of the door, was currently obsessing over the flowers in the vase that Anne had given her at her brother’s funeral.  
"Yes James."  
The door opened and Miss Walker's butler hefted the heavy basket overflowing with offerings on the side table. "This has arrived from Shibden. I wanted to present it to you before taking it through to the kitchen. The card is open because Mr. Booth accidentally delivered it to The Priestley's at first."  
Ann took the card out of the basket and looked over the mountain of food. Her heart quickened its pace. First the flowers and now this. This bounty of kindness. There was an excitement coursing through her but also a feeling of warmth and comfort. "Thank you, James.” He closed the door behind himself and Ann took herself over to the window to read the hand-written card. 

My Dearest Ann,  
I'm so looking forward to our luncheon today. Please don't think I've sent this to supersede any of the decisions you and your kitchen have made for us. This basket, is for you to enjoy throughout the week. I hope it brings you nourishment and comfort at this mournful time. Should you need anything, I want you to feel like you can call on me. I'd like to be of service to you in any way that I can.  
Faithfully yours,  
Anne Lister

Ann clutched the letter to her chest. Anne Lister had, for the last week been everything she'd needed her to be. She'd fantasized about a closeness between them for so long. Growing up, she hadn't understood why she'd had such strong feelings for the woman. All she knew was that Anne Lister was a magnet and she’d never escape the relentless pull of her. She knew of the reputation she had. Anne Lister was a womanizer. She’d seduced ladies all over the world. Yorkshire society tolerated it because they were fascinated by her elegant danger, not to mention the money the Shibden energy empire put back into the local area. Anne Lister was the oddity that they revered in their own way. The black sheep that they loved despite themselves. But the women she seduced didn’t always have their reputations equally intact after making their way with her. Society gave Anne a pass because they couldn’t picture her as being any different than she was. But, often, the women she’d been with were judged differently. The standard was different. They were ladies and wives that had been corrupted by an irresistible rogue. 

Ann sat with her thoughts, accepting that any opportunity to get closer to Anne Lister would be worth it. Her life didn’t have much meaning anyway. She lived in practical isolation with her servants. She rarely went out. The only reputation she had was that of a fragile recluse. If that was what people thought of her, she could at least have the satisfaction of pursuing her true desires.

She heard the sharp rap at the door and snapped out of her thoughts. She stood up and smoothed out the mid-calf length emerald green dress she had on. She adjusted the pussycat bow at her neck and checked her hair, pulled loosely back into a bun. Opening a drawer near her, she pulled out a lipstick and applied a fresh coat. 

James opened the door for Anne and she stepped confidently through. Her wide, gleaming smile told Ann how eager she was to be in her company again. She took Ann Walker’s hand in her own and kissed it gently. “Miss Walker. Ann. You look beautiful. How are you today?”

Ann flushed at the feeling of Anne Lister’s lips pressing on her bare skin. Every bit of contact with her had been undeniably perfect. The way she’d held her when they’d danced. The gentle kisses she’d given her cheek and her hand. And then there was last night’s dream. A warmth and radiance had always emanated from her and Ann Walker soaked it up like a budding flower.

“I’m feeling better today, thank you. It comes in waves.”  
“I’m sure.”  
“But, I’m feeling even better now you’re here. This luncheon has been something to look forward to.”  
“For me as well.”  
“No pressure. I—I don’t want you to feel like you have to sit here cheering me up. I’m happy just to talk. Talk about anything. It doesn’t have to be about my brother or the funeral.”

“We can talk about anything you’d like. I asked you to lunch simply so I could spend more time in your company”, Anne lied. The truth is, she knew that she’d have to find a way to get around to the topics of Ann’s family…her brother…her step-sister-in-law, and any of the other numerous threads that had frayed away from the knot she’d been picking. But, it was only a white lie. She did want to be around Ann Walker. The young woman was so sweet, and kind, and unassuming, and she was beautiful, though she didn’t seem to understand just how pretty she was, with her golden hair, topaz eyes, and delicately freckled skin. More importantly, she didn’t seem to want anything form Anne. She just appeared to LIKE her. After all, she didn’t want to dine out under the flashbulbs of any press that might descend on them…she hadn’t wanted to be ‘treated’ by Anne…she didn’t want to just appear to be ‘in fashion’ on her arm. All she wanted was a quiet afternoon together at her home. 

No, she wasn’t lying entirely. She did want to spend more time with Ann Walker. She just wasn’t sure of the timing. She couldn’t afford the distraction at this stage of her investigation.

The two women sat down to the glasses of champagne that James was pouring.  
“Well, this is a treat, Anne remarked.”  
“I hope it’s not too much”, Ann replied, worried that she now looked ostentatious at a time when she should be grieving.”  
“It’s just right my dear. What better than to toast the life of your brother.”  
Ann raised her glass. Lister made sustained eye contact with her as she clinked the crystal glasses together.  
“To your brother. Gone too soon. And to new friendships.”  
“I do miss him. What with Elizabeth normally being up in Scotland, he was my closest relation. Well…besides the Rawsons and the Priestleys…and the extended clan.” Ann cast her gaze downward.  
“Hmmm…well, what about your sister-in-law. Were you close?”  
“Not really. Not that I didn’t want to be! She was lovely. I just don’t venture over to York very much and that’s where she and John spent most of their time.”  
“I’m sorry to bring it up. You must be concerned about her.”  
“I am. I just…keep thinking…there’s no body found. So, I keep hoping she’s out there somewhere and she’s OK.”  
“Good. Stay positive. You mentioned your relations, the Rawsons. Have you seen much of them lately?”  
“Yes, I see the elder Ann…my Aunt Ann. And the brothers, not as much. Christopher has been travelling to Hull and back quite frequently as I understand it. Jeremiah is always off just doing whatever his brother tells him. He’s not had much backbone since he was discharged from the army.”  
“Discharged?”  
“He was injured during the War. Battle of the Somme. He was shot in the leg. Almost lost it. He still walks with a limp.”  
“I wasn’t aware.”  
“We don’t talk about it much. Jeremiah hasn’t dealt with it terribly well. He still gets distressed. Understandably”  
Anne nodded solemnly.  
“And what about you? How is your sketching coming along?” Anne changed the subject, lightening the mood. “Have you done anything recently?”  
James brought a tier of sandwiches, cakes, and scones in.  
“Thank you James.”  
The two women smiled at each other and went for the scones.  
“A scone first woman. Quite right, Miss Walker.”  
Ann walker laughed, smiles, and placed her napkin in her lap.

After an hour had passed and their bellies were full, they had retired to the chaise longue. Ann was aware that their seating arrangement had started to resemble her dream of the previous night and she felt her body temperature rising. After another hour of conversation, talking about everything from the local reverend, to the salons of Paris, to the Sistine Chapel, Anne pulled out her pocket watch.  
“Have I been here two hours already? Cordingley will be here soon. I must return to York this afternoon.  
Ann’s face dropped. “Do you have to go so soon?”  
“I would love to stay. But, it’s my Aunt, I have to check on her today and she’s back at my York townhouse.”  
“I wish you didn’t have to go.”  
Anne looked in her light eyes and could see only truth there.  
“I don’t know how to explain it. I just feel so much comfort when you’re near me.” She cut herself off, moving her gaze from Anne Lister’s handsome face and her dark eyes, full of tenderness, and down to her own hands. “I’m sorry. It’s silly. You need to get on with your day.”  
Anne reached over and cupped her soft cheek in her hand.  
“It’s not silly, Ann.”  
A single tear rolled down Miss Walker’s cheek. Anne could see the young woman straining to hold back the floods behind her eyes, softening Anne’s heart even more. She leaned in and kissed the teardrop away and as she did so heard the blonde woman let out a small sob.  
“To hell with it”, thought Anne. There’s never going to be a convenient time. She leaned in to press a chaste kiss on Ann’s lips and found herself lingering longer than she meant to. She let out a soft groan as the delicate woman pressed back against her. Ann pressed her tongue to Anne’s lips and Anne met her with a matched longing. Her hands moved to Ann’s back, pulling her in closer. For a blissful, hot minute, they sat kissing and feeling each other, tongues mingling, groans of pleasure and yearning for more escaping from both of them. Anne was the first to pull away.  
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. You’re in mourning.”  
“Please Anne, be anything but don’t be sorry for kissing me.”  
Anne Lister smiled at her. “Alright”, she said softly. “Can I see you again? She raced through her plans in her mind. “Dinner. Tomorrow. Let me treat you.” She knew she couldn’t spare the time. But she also couldn’t bear letting this small, sensitive, gorgeous woman out of her sight for more than 24 hours.  
“Really?”  
“Yes. I’ll make a reservation somewhere. I’ll pick you up at 6.”  
Ann Walker’s smile lit up the whole drawing room.

………………………………………………………………………………………………

The Jackmobile pulled over on a dirt road about 500 yards away from the warehouse, Rawson’s warehouse, that Jack had pinpointed on the map. Unfortunately, in this industrial area, the avenues for approach to the warehouse were slim. There was a farm up on the hill, another disused warehouse that was too far away to be useful, and an empty field…not many gargoyles to perch on in this neck of Skelton. It was desolate. Yet, peering through her binoculars, Jack could see that the warehouse was manned. 12:07 AM and there were two thickly set, muscular men out front and one tall, reedy individual around the side, patrolling the perimeter. She could see that he was carrying a sidearm.  
Jack had driven herself tonight. She turned the headlamps of the Rolls Royce Phantom off as she drove over the tall grass by the side of the road. Better to keep the car out of view. She wanted to approach as stealthily as she could. She decided she’d have to go around the back of the warehouse and try to cut the patrolling guard off. With any luck, she wouldn’t have to deal with the two thugs at the front at all. She crawled through the tall grass, belly to the ground, pulling herself forward with as little disturbance as possible. As she neared the back of the building, the grass grew thinner, patchier and shorter. She was losing her cover and would have to make a run for it. She held her breath and waited for the lanky guardsman to pass by. He stopped in his tracks about 5 feet away from where her prone body was lying in wait. He pulled a cigarette out of a case and started patting himself down for a lighter that he couldn’t find.  
“Where the bloody hell is my Zippo. Paid good money for that thing.”  
Anne rolled her eyes from her waiting position. She brought her legs forward and put herself in a crouch position. With any luck she could pounce on this lanky sunofa--  
“Baz! Barry. Did I lend you my Zippo?”  
“Wot?”  
“My Zippo. Didn’t you have it last?”  
“Nah mate. Shaun’s got it.”  
“Shaun. Get back here, will ya?”  
“Yeah yeah, hang on, hang on. Give me a second.”  
One of the muscle-bound guards from the front, the one with dark hair and a beard, started making their way to the back. Shaun, Anne presumed.  
“Let me just light myself up first. I’m coming.”

“Now or never”, Jack thought. She pressed the release button on her retractable staff, expanding it to full size. Pouncing from her waiting position, she vaulted herself into a strong flying sidekick, knocking the scarecrow-like guard off his footing and sending his tobacco flying.  
“Oof…Shaun! Shaun, get back here, mate!” The man choked out, holding his rib cage and rolling on his side. Before he knew it, Jack was sat astride him delivering three punches to his face in quick succession. He blacked out. One down.  
“Mate, calm down. How bad do you need a ciggy? What the—who the fuck are you?”  
Both men had turned the corner and Jack, her advantage spoiled, found herself at the double-barrelled end of a big problem.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading and commenting. I appreciate folks leaving kudos and the kind words. Hope it's a fun read. I am having a good time writing it!


	8. The Warehouse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Previously: After a lunch-date with Ann Walker, a meeting which left both of our ladies hungry for more of each other, our hero returned to investigating the murder of John Walker. Her trail had taken her to the outskirts of York…a warehouse in Skelton. She was investigating noise complaints in the Rawson-owned property. Seeking a way in the desolate location and army-crawling around the perimeter, she tackled and subdued one goon only to be taken off guard by the sudden appearance of two more. Without the element of surprise, how will our hero escape?

The two men, ‘Shaun’ and ‘Barry’ had rounded the corner before Jack had a moment to ready herself. Straddling their colleague, the now unconscious watchman, she triggered the button on her gauntlet and set her cowl onto full blast, the blaring light blinding the two muscular obstacles who remained in her way.   
"Gah, what the bloody hell?" They both stumbled backwards, unsure of what they'd just seen.   
"It's that devil they've been talking about in the paper. The Jack. The Gentleman Jack."  
"Shoot him."  
"I can't see him, you dope."  
“Just shoot towards the light!”  
The bolder of the two, the bearded one—Shaun-- drew a weapon, a steel blade and made a running leap for the light.  
"Arrrrgh". He raged at Jack who twisted into position, grabbing his collar and planting her foot on his chest, she threw him to a stack of barrels behind her, sending them all clattering to the ground. Rolling to her feet, she grabbed a nearby brick and whipped it with precision at the armed attacker who was still standing. He crumpled to the ground, firing his revolver accidentally as he went. The bullet crashed through the glass window and a scream of pain from inside the warehouse ensued. Jack felt the voice in her bones and immediately turned her attention to the source, climbing to the window.   
"Not so fast, Jack." She felt a tug at her great coat, pulling her off the ledge and back onto the hard ground. Shaun, the one she’d chucked into the barrels was clearly not down for the count and delivered a swift kick to her ribs. He stood over her, slavering--the metal blade of the knife glinting under the moon, itself making a fleeting appearance from cloud cover. With another adjustment on her gauntlet she activated the vox box on and her voice came out a hellish and demonic growl. She blasted a smoke pellet onto the ground. "Hellfire be upon you." Startled, Shaun reared back. She drew a small pistol from her belt and fired it into a barrel. Dry and empty, it splintered into pieces. They’d previously stored something flammable, she could smell remnants of it in the air. Alcohol? Petrol? Clicking her staff to full extension she pointed it at the pile of barrels and a stream of fire roared out of the end of it, setting the shattered kindling and the nearby ground on fire. It wouldn't be long until it reached the other barrels.   
"This. This is the end of you. It is the last this world will see of your evil deeds." The gravelly wolfish voice gargled from her vox box. You belong to me and I will put you in the ground tonight." Jack rose to her height, her great coat billowing behind her, the fire burning bright, the smoke filling the man's lungs.

The wall of muscle turned a sickly white and fell over himself backing away. He turned heel and ran, coughing and crying. Now Jack had to decide between pursuit and rescue. Knowing that the fire could soon overtake the warehouse, she launched herself with the aid of her grappling hook into the building. 

The smoke from the fire and from her smoke pellet was rapidly entering the space. She followed the sound of sobbing. The warehouse was full of equipment, farming and mining. She ducked and dodged around the machinery. Behind a thresher, there was a woman tied to a chair. Though her clothes were tattered and she looked worse for wear, she recognized the young brunette as Emily Walker. 

"Emily Walker. I'm not going to hurt you."  
The woman screamed in fear.  
"Goddamit." Jack turned off her head lamp and the vox box. "Emily. I'm going to get you out of here."  
"Who are you?"  
"Right now? A friend."  
Jack drew a switchblade from her belt and clicked it open. Whether from perceived threat, smoke inhalation, or the genuine terror which had been building up for her for far too long, the woman passed out. Jack set to work cutting through the binding ropes. Once free, the woman slumped forward onto Jack's strong shoulder. Jack pushed her up and with a small effort stood with the kidnapped woman slung over her shoulder. Kicking open the tall front doors of the warehouse, Jack gulped in a lung-full of fresh air. She continued for several paces away from the building, wary of a fire which might be imminent. She placed the young woman on the soft grass. Ready to provide first aid if needed, she slowly examined her. She looked malnourished, possibly dehydrated, and there were burns where she'd lived with ropes tied to her for so long. There was a fresh cut on her shoulder. Possibly a bullet graze from when it'd gone through the window.   
The woman was starting to rouse. "Where am I? John? What's happening?” Then the rain started to come down. The drizzle quickly turned into buckets. Jack gathered her in her strong arms, holding her tight, she harried back to the Jackmobile. In the pocket of her great coat, she retrieved a device. It was a remote, activating the boot of the Phantom...the back seat folded forward and a gurney like slab moved forward and extended from the space. She gently placed Emily walker on it and strapped her in. "Why? What's happening? Where are you taking me?"  
"You'll be safe soon", was all Jack said. Pressing the button again, the gurney slid back into the car and the boot closed.

The Jackmobile rumbled and thundered down the country roads on its way back to city centre. It was now 1:27AM and Jack put the car into a low gear pulling up to side road near a three-story house. Looking over her shoulder to ensure there weren’t any insomniac curtain-twitchers, she parked and got out of the car. She activated the device in the Jackmobile’s boot, unbuckled the straps and pulled Emily Walker into her arms. The woman was conscious but silent, her head lolling onto Jack’s chest, the rain still coming down in sheets, soaking Jack as she did her best to keep Emily dry and warm.  
Opening the back garden gate, Jack strode to the rear door. She rapped as loudly as she thought she could without raising attention from neighbours. After three minutes and thirteen seconds, Dr. Stephen Belcombe appeared, tying the belt on his dressing gown. “It’s late.”  
“I know.”  
“Who is this?”  
“Emily Walker.”  
“Dear lord. Get in here.”

Jack stepped over the threshold with the woman still cradled in her arms. The Doctor and the vigilante descended with the patient down to a cellar operating theatre. Jack placed Emily on the crisp white sheets of the hospital bed. 

“What do you know?”  
“She was being held there. Bound to a chair. Possibly for the duration of the time she’s been missing. Weeks. There was some violence tonight. A lot of smoke in the air. Her shoulder may have been grazed by a bullet. She needs food, water, rest and possibly stitches.”

“Anne” Steph quickly corrected himself. “Jack. What am I meant to do with her after tonight?” I can patch her up and make sure she’s OK. But I can’t take her to the police or to a proper hospital. I’ll be questioned. It’s one thing for me to mend your bones and wounds. But this can’t just be a drop point for you. I’ll be implicated.”  
“I know. I don’t have a plan. Not yet. I’ll go home tonight but I’ll come back. Early. I’ll take her off your hands.”  
“In the daylight?”  
“I’ll come as Anne.”  
“How’s that going to work?”  
“Do you have any sedatives here?”  
“You know I do.”  
“Good. Have her sedated and ready. I’ll be here at 6AM. It’ll still be dark.”   
Anne entered her townhouse at 2AM. If she was lucky, she’d get a few hours of sleep before having to return to Dr. Belcombe’s. Cordingley greeted her, taking her great coat and belt and checking stock in both.  
Anne put her pistol on the kitchen table.  
“I discharged this tonight. Give it a clean and reload it.”  
“Ma’am. Any injuries?”  
“Not for me. But I could use a whiskey anyway.”  
“Ma’am”.  
Anne took the tumbler of Oban from her faithful servant. “If my Aunt is looking for me in the morning, tell her I’m fine and I’ll be back before noon.”  
“Yes Ma’am.”  
With that, Anne put herself to bed.

She had set her alarm for 5:30. Her ribs were tender from where she’d been kicked. She took a big breath in and let it slowly out. She didn’t think anything was broken. She dragged her hand over them…any soreness felt more bruised than broken. Grateful for small mercies, she dressed herself and swanned through the kitchen where Cordingley was waiting with a cup of tea and buttered muffin. “Thank you.” She said, with a mouthful of blueberries. “I shouldn’t be long.”

After collecting the sedated patient and transferring her back to the Jackmobile, she was off to Tib’s. Anne put on the cowl/hat, gloves and her great coat. It was enough to disguise her appropriately for this encounter. She approached the front door of Detective Norcliffe’s home. The location of Tib’s detached cottage was low-risk for Jack being spotted but Tib, despite being Anne’s long-time friend, still had no awareness of Jack’s true identity or that the vigilante had chosen her as a contact for a personal reason. 

Tib came to the door in a night shirt. A cup of coffee was in her hand.   
“You. At my home again.”   
“Come with me, Detective Norcliffe.”  
“This better be good. I don’t like you coming here unannounced.”  
Jack popped the boot open and when Emily Walker’s sleeping body slowly slid out on the gurney, Tib’s jaw dropped. “Is that who I think it is?”  
“Yes. I think it’s unlikely that she murdered John Walker.”  
“Where did you find her?”  
“She was being held at a Rawson owned warehouse in Skelton. Guarded by three men. Probably for several weeks.”  
“Christ.”  
“She’s been seen to. By a friend. Her health is OK but she’s sedated.”  
“I’ll need to leave her in your charge. It’ll obviously have to be an official police discovery.”  
“What am I meant to say?”  
“Say that you followed up on that pressing lead you had about noise complaints at the warehouse. You entered when you heard screams and found her there. I have a list of questions I need you to ask her.”  
“What you don’t think I can follow the lead from here?”  
Jack considered her answer…”There’s procedures and a process you’re bound to.”  
“I can still pull information together. I’m not an idiot.”  
Jack pressed a list of queries into the Detective’s hand.  
“I’ll be back tomorrow morning. Same time. Have the answers.”  
“Great. Thanks Sunshine.”  
Jack walked to the Jackmobile before turning around.  
“Oh, and Detective Norcliffe….there was a fire last night and three armed men injured. One fled on foot. Two unconscious when I left them.”  
“Great. Just great. Thanks, pal.”  
Jack revved the engine of the Jackmobile and turned out of the driveway.  
“It’s creepy that you know where I live. Stop coming here.” Tib shouted at the departing vigilante who was now wildly out of earshot.

With Emily Walker now in police custody and further information being gathered, Anne turned her thoughts to the Rawsons. It was clear as day to her that they were responsible directly or indirectly for the shooting and murder of John Walker. But she needed to find a pathway to proof. Hopefully the answers that Tib obtained would help with that. 

……………………………………………………………………………………………….

“She’s here! She’s back”. Aunt Anne was in a flurry in the front room as she saw the gunmetal grey of the Rolls Phantom drive by the house and onto the drive. Cordingley opened the door for her mistress as she stomped into the kitchen.   
“Aunt. You’re up.”  
“Yes, you know I worry. I barely slept last night.”  
“I am fine. You’ll be the first to know if ever that’s untrue.”  
“What of last night then?”  
“I found Emily Walker.”  
“What? Where?”  
“She was being held in a warehouse. Kidnapped. All quite awful really.”  
“Oh thank the lord you found her. Does that release her from suspicion?”  
“Presumably. I’m having Tib question her today when she’s well enough.”  
“You’ve had a long night. Might you rest today? You’ve got a diaried dinner with Miss Walker tonight. I hope you haven’t forgotten”

Anne hadn’t forgotten. If anything the thought of it, the excitement of seeing young Miss Walker again had almost driven her to distraction over the last 24 hours. She found herself having to push increasingly filthy thoughts of her to the corners of her mind so she could concentrate on the task at hand.   
“No, I haven’t forgotten, Aunt”.  
“I was surprised that you arranged to see her again so soon. Delighted really.”  
“Hmm.”  
“Can I assume that your interest goes beyond the case?”  
Anne the younger smiled. “Don’t get your hopes up too early, Aunt. You know how these things have history of going pear-shaped.

It was three hours later, after Anne had taken a hot soak and was looking over the evidence she’d collected that the doorbell went. Anne strained her ear from her upstairs library down to the foyer below. Cordingley had answered the door and was welcoming someone in.  
“I’m so sorry to show up like this. It’s just, I’ve had news today that’s brought me to York and…and I wasn’t sure if Miss Lister might be in. I just. I. I’m sorry, this is probably so inconvenient. I’ll go. You don’t need to say anything. I’ll talk to her later.”

“Not a bother at all Miss Walker. Please do come in.”

“Good lord”, Anne thought, stood in a pair of gentleman’s drawers and an undershirt as she looked around the room…the room full of evidence, costuming, and gadgets.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for keeping up with the story. Your comments keep me jaunty.


	9. A Change in Plans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Previously: After a long investigation around the murder of John Walker, the dots are becoming connected for Anne Lister. Ruling out suspects (a secret step-sister of Emily Walker and John’s new wife, Emily herself), fisticuffs at the bank, fisticuffs at a warehouse, several visits to her York Police connection Detective Isabella Norcliffe, a worried aunt, an overworked Cordingley, a constantly annoyed Marian, and the blossoming romance between Anne Lister and Ann Walker, it’s all starting to come into focus.

On the same morning that Anne had gotten up to collect Emily Walker from Dr. Stephen Belcombe’s city centre based practice, Ann Walker had gotten up feeling nervous and excited. She was going to have dinner with Anne Lister. Not just any dinner where the two were accidentally in each other’s company. Not a family gathering, not a society soiree, a date. Anne Lister had asked her on a genuine date. Ann had been the object of romantic attention before. There was her brother-in-law’s family. There was even the Reverend, she shuddered to think about it. But she’d never been pursued by someone who SHE was actually interested in. Anne Lister, to be frank, was the only person she’d ever felt attraction towards. After she’d fallen for her, all those years ago, no one could quite measure up. No one was quite as clever, as charming, as handsome, as interesting. Only in her wildest dreams did she think that the attention would ever be returned. Anne Lister, who had her pick of any eligible woman…and some not so eligible women…asking HER to dinner. Nothing could burst the bubble she was riding on.  
Then, Eliza Priestley arrived. Ann met her in the conservatory and offered her tea. “Thank you, Ann. That would be wonderful. I wanted to catch you before you went about your business today. That’s if you had any.”  
Ann blushed. She usually got along well enough with Eliza. The older woman was desperate to see her married and that was frustrating, but she felt that at the very least Eliza’s intentions were good. However, every so often there was a sting of judgement attached to Eliza’s words. Sometimes, after their visits, Ann was left to feel inadequate and undeserving of her place in society. She’d never been introduced properly. She didn’t venture out much. Most of her philanthropic work was done via the signing of a check and that didn’t do Eliza much good. She was in charge of the society pages at the Yorkshire Courier, after all.  
“I wanted to talk to you about Anne Lister”, Eliza started as James poured them each a cup of tea.  
“What about her?”  
“Have you been seeing a lot of her?”  
There was no use lying. Ann remembered that the gift basket that Anne had sent the other day had been accidentally delivered to Eliza first. “She came to visit the other day. After the funeral. And we’re going out tonight!” Ann replied enthusiastically.  
“Tonight?” Eliza was surprised. “So soon? Dear, don’t you think it’s a bit fast?”  
“Well, we seem to be getting along and enjoying each other’s company. I feel…I don’t know…good when I’m around her. Safe.”  
“Well that’s why I’m worried. You see, she has quite a reputation. Now, you know that I am very fond of Ms. Lister. She’s a fascinating woman and the paper sells twice as many copies when she’s featured in my column. But I don’t want you to rush into this.”  
Ann cast her eyes downward. “If you mean that she sees a lot of women, I know.”  
Eliza studied her friend. “You know I want to see you happy. There are so many eligible men that have been asking about you. Good men.”  
Ann fidgeted quietly within her vexation. “I’ve told you before. I. I don’t want that.”  
“It would just be so much easier, Ann. The story would be better. I don’t want to have to write about you in my pages because you’ve had your heart broken by the notorious Anne Lister.”  
“Well, then don’t write about it.”  
Eliza smirked. “You know that’s an impossible ask.”  
“I can’t cancel. I want her—to see her too much.”  
Eliza let out a sigh. “Well at least consider moving your…meeting…tonight to somewhere more public where there’s less room for canoodling. It’ll slow her down.”  
Slowing Anne Lister down was the last thing that Ann Walker wanted. She hungered for their intimacy. Every waking second was consumed with thoughts of them being alone together again. Come to think of it, so was every non-waking second. But, if she could stop Eliza from glomming onto this as a central piece in her column, it might be worth agreeing to what she was suggesting.  
“You know tonight there’s a celebration party that the Rawson’s are throwing.”  
“I know. I was going to go but then Anne asked me to dinner.”  
“Well, two birds one stone. Why don’t you go to the Rawson’s event? It’s a safer choice. It also makes sense for you to be there tonight.”  
“I don’t want to change plans on Anne. It’s a bit rude.”  
“Oh no, you should bring her. Anne is always interested in knowing what the Rawsons are up to anyway. I think she likes the friendly competition.”

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..

Anne was struck dumb. Cordingley appeared at the door of her upstairs study to confirm that yes, in fact, Ann Walker had dropped on her doorstep totally unannounced. They weren’t meant to meet for hours. And they were meant to meet back in Halifax. Not here in York. Yet, here she was. Why?  
She stood in her drawers and undershirt. Freshly washed hair, hanging wetly at her shoulders, she quickly glanced around the room. It was strewn with evidence, gadgets, and her armour everywhere.  
“Shall I send her her away, Ma’am?”  
“Um. Erm….Ehhhhh. No! No. Tell her I’ll be down in a moment.”  
“Of course, Ma’am.”  
“And make some coffee?”  
‘Ma’am.”  
This was manageable. Why was she panicking? There was no need for Miss Walker to ascend the stairs? Her secrets were safe. For the most part, the townhouse was just a townhouse. It was only if you opened the right cupboards or pressed the right buttons to the right secret compartments that any evidence of Anne’s other life were visible. She’d just shut the door and entertain Ann downstairs. She ran into her dressing room and put on a long black skirt, white shirt, with a dark grey waistcoat and black cravat. She pulled her hair back into a low pony tail as she descended the stairs.  
“Ann”, Anne smiled as she greeted the woman she couldn’t stop thinking about in the front room of her townhouse. She gave her a swift kiss on each cheek and pulled back to look at her sparkling blue eyes.  
“I’m so sorry to drop in unannounced. It’s just that, I had an idea. Well…my tribe has had an idea more like. I know that we’re meant to dine together tonight and I’ve so been looking forward to it.”  
“As have I!” Anne ushered the blonde to a comfortable settee.  
“Yes, but you see…my cousin. Eliza. Eliza Priestley. You know her. She reminded me that my other cousins, the Rawsons, are having a big gathering tonight and that it would be vulgar if I didn’t attend.”  
“Ah.”  
“So, what I was wondering was….”  
“If I would release you from our dinner plans?”  
“Well no. I was wondering if you would…accompany me to their get-together.”  
“Ah.” Anne smiled her wide toothy smile. Here she was, afraid that she had scared little Miss Walker away. But instead, a gift had landed in her lap. She could observe the Rawsons in their natural habitat….”What is the event?”  
“Apparently they’ve had some recent land acquisition. East of here. They’re capitalising on some new venture. It’ll be part celebration part publicity opportunity no doubt.”  
“Well, I have just the thing to wear.” Anne clasped their hands together and gave her a smile.  
“Oh, that’s wonderful. What a day this is turning into.”  
“What do you mean?”  
“Oh it’s just, I had a phone call this morning. Emily has been found. Alive. She’s alive. It’s such good news.”  
“That’s wonderful! How? Where has she been?”  
“She couldn’t remember much, unfortunately. It seems awful. She knows that she was in a warehouse outside of the city. She remembers a gunshot in her home, probably the gunshot that struck and killed John…then the warehouse. She’d been there weeks. Dreadful.”  
“Who found her? How did she escape?”  
“She said it’s all so foggy. As in fragments. She remembers waking up in a police vehicle driving to the station. A Detective Norcliffe rescued her.”  
Anne was relieved at the lack of detail. “Tib! She’s a friend. She’s an excellent policewoman.”  
“You know her! Yes. Emily couldn’t remember much beyond that. I was allowed to speak with her only briefly before she needed to be taken away for more questioning. One weird thing is...” Ann paused, worried how she’d come off to the older woman.  
“Yes?”  
“She remembers a blinding light, like a headlamp, before being rescued…and that’s what I saw. That night I was at their townhouse, when I thought I saw the Gentleman Jack. I know it sounds crazy.”  
Anne was silent.  
“You probably think I’ve lost my mind.”  
“No. I don’t.” Anne looked around the room gathering the perfect response. “I just think you’ve both been through a lot. I couldn’t possibly know exactly what you’re going through.”  
“The last few years have just been…well….one nightmare after another.”  
Anne brushed a loose strand of blonde hair away from the young woman’s face. “You’re stronger than you know.”  
“I feel better when I’m with you.”  
“Well then. I look forward to ‘feeling better’ tonight. The event. Is it here or in Halifax?  
“Neither. It’s in between. It’s in Leeds. Is that alright? They’ve hired out a ballroom there.”  
“Of course. Why don’t we meet there? Afterwards, I can drive you home.”  
“Are you sure?”  
“Of course. It’s no bother at all. I like driving.”  
The two parted ways to get ready for their evening.  
…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Anne drove herself to the Quebecs Club in Leeds. She’d opted for formal attire. Wearing tailored grey trousers, a white shirt, and a dinner jacket with tails. She put her top hat on as she stepped out of the car. She walked over to the nearby train station to collect Ann. As the train pulled onto the platform, Anne checked her watch. 7:04. On time for once. Ann Walker stepped off of the cross-country express wearing a lavender dress. With an elegant updo, silver jewellery and a white stole, she stood out amongst the masses. Anne rushed to her side and put her overcoat on her. “Whilst you look absolutely stunning, my dear, we do have a short walk over to the hotel.”  
“Thank you”, Ann responded, grateful for the immediate warmth. “You look so handsome. I mean, you always are. But, I—you look very nice.”  
“Thank you, Ann.” Anne held her arm out for Ann to put hers through and the two walked over in the cold late January air to the ballroom of the Quebecs. There were a couple of photographers hanging out outside the hotel, waiting to see if any society names were going to show up. Anne heard her name whispered and the two women were briefly lit up by flashbulbs.  
“I hope you don’t mind. It seems to be getting worse every year. The press.”  
“I don’t mind. I want to be seen with you.”  
The two entered and Anne went to put her coat into the coat check. A jazz band playing in the background, Anne had to lean in close to ask Ann “Would you like a drink?”  
Breathing in all that she could of the nearness of Anne Lister, she replied: “A white wine, thank you.”  
“I’ll only be a minute.”  
Anne quickly returned with two glasses. But it was too late, Eliza Priestley and Catherine Rawson had already swarmed on Miss Walker.  
“Miss Lister. Two sightings in under a month. This is a treat for my readers. What have you been up to then?”  
“Oh the same as usual, Eliza. All the scandal, intrigue, and drama of running a power company. You know, visiting the mine, keeping the accounts, reading contracts. Classic ribaldry.”  
Catherine Rawson let out a giggle.  
“Honestly, you are such a tease. Just last month, you were seen in London with Celia Johnson. Don’t be coy. You’re holding back on me.”  
Anne noticed Ann Walker flush. “All fleeting moments in time, Eliza, leading to this perfect evening. A lovely room, this. Must have cost a pretty penny to reserve. What exactly are we celebrating tonight anyway? If anyone knows the scoop, it will be you Mrs. Priestley.  
“Well, as a matter of fact, I did ask Christopher. But, I’m afraid it’s a bit dull. They’ve picked up some property in Hull.”  
“Hmm…no disrespect but people generally don’t throw parties about Hull.”  
“Well, they think the land might be rich in oil is all. Terribly boring.”  
Whilst listening to Eliza continue about what Catherine Rawson had been up to, Anne clocked Christopher Rawson sat down at a table in the corner. His brother Jeremiah was with him as were the faces of two other men she didn’t know.  
“Did you want to say hello to your cousins tonight, Ann?” Anne whispered into her date’s ear.  
“I suppose I really should.”  
“I’ll come with you.”  
The duo excused themselves from their conversation and walked over to the table.  
The foursome stifled their conversation noticeably as the two women approached.  
“Sorry to interrupt you gentleman”, Anne offered.  
“Ann Walker. Good evening. Thank you for coming tonight. And you brought Miss Lister.” Christopher added…barely an acknowledgement of the handsome woman accompanying his relation. He didn’t offer them a place at the table.  
“We wanted to say congratulations on your new acquisition, cousin.”  
“Thank you. It was a hard-won bid. We’re lucky to have it.”  
“My brother was looking at land in Hull.”  
“Ah yes. I recall. He was a shrewd businessman.”  
Whilst Ann and Christopher were speaking, Anne studied the faces of the other three gentlemen. Jeremiah was casting his eyes downwards, twisting a napkin in his hand. The other two were casting their gazes around the room. One was totally unfamiliar but the other…she could swear that he was man driving the car at the bank the other night, during the break in. She’d put money on it.  
After a few more moments of icy forced pleasantries, the two women moved on and away from the table. “Well, that whole thing was uncomfortable. Maybe it’s me though, I’m never entirely at ease in social situations.”  
“It wasn’t just you, Ann.”  
The two women continued to circulate around the lavish affair. For her part, Anne was a sparkling conversationalist with anyone who gathered near. She was considerate of Ann as well, often diverting the conversation to something she knew Miss Walker would find interesting. . Ann Walker had another glass of wine and found herself growing bolder in her affection towards dapper Miss Lister. She stood a little closer, took her hand to hold on several occasions when speaking with others, and even dragged her off to a secluded table for two in a dark corner of the room.  
“Well Miss Walker, I dare say we should probably think about getting you back home to Crow Nest.”  
“Is it time already? I’ve had such a nice evening, despite the fact that I’m surrounded by people who regularly put me on edge. Must we go?”  
“Mmm…I’m afraid so. But I’ve had a wonderful time too. Let us consider the close of tonight just a brief recess before we see each other again.”  
“I’d like that.”  
Anne ushered the blonde into the passenger side of the car and put herself in the driver’s seat.  
“Fancy.” Ann observed.  
“It’s a few years old now but she’s still smooth as silk on the roads.” Anne honked the horn loudly, startling Ann from her comfort and causing her to jump in her seat.  
With her wide blue eyes on full alert, Ann gave her a playful slap on the arm. “You beastly woman.” Anne revved the engine and snarled along playfully. The two laughed and pulled away with Leeds in the rear view mirror.  
The drive to Crow Nest was short and swift. Ann Walker couldn’t help but swoon at how Anne looked when she drove. Flying through the gears and hugging the curves of the road perfectly. How was this woman so good at anything she turned her hand to? Anne caught her staring.  
“Are you alright? Do you need me to pull over?”  
“I’m fabulous”, was all Ann said and put her head on Anne’s shoulder.  
Once at Crow Nest, Anne jumped out of the Rolls to open the door for Ann. Taking her hand, she walked her up the short three steps to the main entrance. It was there, under gas lamp, that she spotted a wet and muddy footprint on the pavement going around to the side of the property. The smell of a freshly smoked cigarette lingered lightly in the air.  
“Where’s James?” Anne asked, wondering why the door was not opened for the mistress of the house.  
“I told him not to wait up. He’ll be in his quarters.”  
Anne decided not to leave Crow Nest just yet.  
“Do you mind if I step in for a moment?”  
Ann couldn’t believe her luck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What adventure lies in wait? Punches? Sexy times? Both? Stay tuned. And thanks for reading!


	10. Night at Crow Nest.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Previously, Anne is hot on the trail of John Walker's murder. All signs are pointing to The Rawson's having heavy involvement if not being directly responsible. When Ann Walker surprises her with a change of plans, it means they're spending a night at a Rawson's Bros gala and Anne can get closer to the enemy...to the woman she can't stop thinking about.  
> The two return to Crow Nest after a night of revelry with Anne concerned that they might not be the only ones there...

Anne stepped over the threshold as the mistress of Crow Nest found the foyer’s light switch. The bulb flickered and then came to life. The petite woman took Anne’s hands and pulled her into the kitchen. “Shall I fix us a drink? I think I might have an open bottle of Madeira or sherry somewhere.”  
“That’d be lovely”, Anne replied, distractedly. Her eyes were everywhere in the house. She wanted Ann to be quiet but she didn’t want to scare her needlessly. She might be overreacting. She was always on high-alert. “Why don’t you see what you can find? I’ll eagerly await your return.”  
“Have a nosey around the downstairs if you like”, Ann said as she moved towards the pantry. Just the words that Anne wanted to hear. Taking her overcoat off and placing it on a chair in the kitchen, she moved silently from room to room, turning lights on as she went, stepping wide around corners and peeking behind curtains and in cupboards and closets. It was when she got to the library that Ann stepped in with two glasses of sherry.  
“It’s all I could find and it’s probably only good for cooking. But cheers anyway.” Ann giggled as she handed the crystal pony glass to the object of her affection.  
“I’m sure it’ll be suitable for our purposes.”  
Ann giggled again and took Anne by the hand over to a plush sofa in the middle of the room. “Tonight has been so lovely. I normally hate going to events like that but I’m so glad that you came with me. Thanks for being so, easy about changing plans.”  
“I’m nothing if not flexible, my dear. It was entirely my pleasure. I enjoy your company, Ann. You need to know that.”  
The younger woman sighed and looked dreamily into Anne’s eyes. Anne leaned forward and—there was a loud metallic clatter in the kitchen, like a serving tray dropping onto the floor. They both froze.  
“Where are James’ quarters? Would he have gotten up?”  
“No, his quarters…it’s a cottage…to the rear of the property.”  
“I’m sure it’s nothing but I want you to remain here. I’ll go investigate.”  
“No. Don’t go. I’ll come with you.”  
“Ann, I’d feel better if you stayed put. Close the door behind me. And do me a favour. Keep talking. Like we’re having a conversation.”  
Ann opened her mouth to say something but Anne was gone before she could and had shut the door behind herself.  
...........................................................................................................................................................................................................................

Anne crept toward the kitchen. She regretted not putting on at least her flak vest underneath her shirt. Society nights were often difficult for her. Things would come up, frequently, which she’d rather deal with as Jack. Some things she'd rather settle with the simple absolutism of a boot to the backside. Much easier than having to negotiate the machinations of high society, the criminal underground, and the way the two were almost seamlessly interwoven. It was hard to have her cake and punch it too.  
Without her Gentleman Jack armour, all she had this evening were her wits and her fists. Normally, they were a sufficient one two punch. However, tonight she felt like she was balancing on a knife’s edge. Someone was clearly here to 'deal' with Ann. Someone she cared too much about. Things were personal to her now. It was spiking her metabolism and making her sweat. About to turn the corner into the kitchen, she heard a floorboard squeak and she paused. Someone was picking up the dropped tray and putting it on the worktop. She knew there was a back door into the kitchen…an old servant’s passage. Anne wished that she could make her way to it to gain the upper hand but it would mean crossing the doorway. No point. She opted to stay put. Whoever was here was bound to come her way in a moment. She caught their shadow approaching and poised herself.  
Sure enough, a man…a big man…wearing a sack cloth, two large holes for the eyes, over his face came through the doorway.

Anne threw the first punch and the intruder staggered backwards. Before she knew it, he’d pulled out a knife. They each paused, looking at each other with anticipation and intent. He feinted forward and she made a slight counter. Another feint and counter. Then, risking a counter attack, he lunged. She side-stepped and threw her hands to either side of his wrist, smacking the top of his hand and punching his wrist in a scissor strike. The knife went flying across the room and to the floor. He threw a big left hook, and she ducked under…reappearing around his blind side and delivering a firm knee to his gut. He choked, coughed, and moved quickly out of her distance. Anne didn’t let up. She stomped his instep and followed up with a sharp elbow to his jaw followed by a backhand. Off his balance, he staggered right. She thrust a roundhouse kick to the back of his leg, sending him to his knees. He pulled on her dinner jacket’s tails and she shed the garment. Still on the floor, he pulled out a gun, a service weapon, Anne noted…military issue. She threw herself at him before he could aim. Tackling the man, who had at least five inches and 70 pounds on her, was nearly impossible, but she knocked him back, aiming to wrestle the firearm from his grasp. The gun went off, putting a hole in the ceiling, sending plaster down on top of them. It fired again, this time the bullet hit a mirror, sending shrapnel flying. A shard found its way to Anne’s forearm as she dived behind a table for cover. She flipped it over to its side, providing her with a vast shield. Dragging it with her over to a fireplace, she grabbed an iron poker. The man, seeing her plans, gave up his mission and turned to run. She followed, gritting through the pain of her wounded arm. Through the kitchen, he ran through the old servant’s quarters. She grabbed a knife from a block on her way through the kitchen. A straight shot in the corridor, no way to zig or zag with the doors locked, he was an easy target and she aimed for his leg, his good leg, and hurled the steel blade. The man fell down in agony. Clutching his wounded calf, he screamed out. It was then that Anne heard sirens. She ignored them and took a mighty swing with her fireplace iron at the bagged man’s head, knocking him out. She rolled him over to his belly and straddled his back. She pulled the sack off of him and held his head up by his hair. Jeremiah Rawson. He must have left the party before they did. She hadn’t clocked it.  
Shit.  
Anne dragged his massive, unconscious body back to the kitchen and hogtied him with a ball of butcher’s twine she found in a cupboard. Even if he roused, he wasn’t going anywhere. She gave him a quick pat-down, checking pockets for any evidence. In his left-hand breast pocket, she found a necklace which she suspected belonged to Emily Walker and quickly stashed it. She went to go check on Ann as the police were coming in the door. 

Tears were streaming down Ann Walker’s face as she launched herself into Anne’s arms. “Anne! You’re alright. Oh thank God. I thought you’d been shot! I called the police. I didn’t know what else to do. Then I heard the gunshots and I was so frightened. Are you alright?” She sobbed heavily.  
“Yes. I’m fine. I’m so sorry Ann. He was lying in wait here. Somewhere out of sight.” She squeezed the arms of Ann Walker and pulled her in tight, holding her head against her chest and stroking her hair.  
He’s in the kitchen”, Anne informed the police who pushed past her. She didn’t want to say who it was. How devastating to know that someone you would consider kin was willing to consider a family member expendable. She’d expected it to be the getaway driver or one of the Rawson Brothers' other cronies. She didn’t know that Jeremiah was getting his hands dirty.  
“Who…did you see? Who would do this?”  
Anne took a breath. “It’s…it’s your cousin, Jeremiah. Rawson.”  
Ann’s jaw dropped.  
“I’m so sorry, Ann. He’s obviously very ill. You said yourself he’s not been the same since he returned from the war.”  
Ann’s eyes filled with tears anew. “What did he want? Was he going to attack me? Do you think…do you think he’s the one? Do you think he killed John?”  
Anne paused. “I don’t know…Maybe.”  
Ann noticed the stream of red blood running down the sleeve of Anne’s torn shirt. “You’re bleeding. Anne—your arm.”  
“It’s just glass. It’s fine.”  
“No. No, it’s not. You need attention. Help. Someone help!” A young cadet came over.  
“Are you alright?”  
“My friend needs medical attention. Her arm…”  
“There’s a medic outside, I’ll bring him in.”  
Before Anne could fend anyone off, the first-aider was upon her, extracting a rather large piece of mirror glass. The piece had lodged itself in and a substantial shard had broken off. She needed a few stitches and a bandage and was told to lay off physical activity so that the muscle could heal properly. Meanwhile, attending officers had put Jeremiah Rawson into an ambulance and had questioned Ann Walker about the events of the evening. After they left, Ann rushed over to Anne, who was reclining on the couch, her bandaged arm elevated on a small throw pillow.  
“I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t been here. Anne. He would have killed me. I’m sure of it. He had a knife and a gun. You saved my life, Anne. She started planting kisses all over her face and running her fingers through her long dark hair. “I can’t believe you risked your life for me.” Anne responded with soft and wordless murmurs. “Please. Sleep here tonight.”  
Anne looked back at the small woman and felt like she wanted to protect her form the viciousness of the world forever.  
“I need to phone my Aunt. She’ll be worried.”  
“I’ll phone her. Please. Please stay. You should rest. And…and I’d feel safer.” A mixture of fear and gratitude washed over her lightly freckled face.  
“Of course. Of course I’ll stay.”  
Ann resumed kissing her cheeks and forehead and finally her lips. She pulled herself on the older woman’s lap and loosened Anne’s cravat. She slowly pulled it through her shirt collar and laid it carefully on the table behind them. She pressed her lips back to Anne’s again, asking for entrance with her tongue and cradling Anne’s face in her hands.  
After a moment, Anne suggested that they should go upstairs. 

The two got ready for bed, Ann in the master bedroom and Anne in the guest room next door. She studied her sliced and bandaged arm. She was used to dealing with pain. But, even she had to admit she was impressed at how much glass the young medic had pulled out. She was tempted to frame it as a keepsake. She got into bed and just as she pulled the blanket up and was about to switch the light on her nightstand off, there was a knock at her door.  
“Anne?”  
“Yes, come in.”  
Ann entered wearing a cream coloured silk nightgown, a ribbon cinching it at the waist, her blonde hair falling in waves down around her shoulders. “Would you mind sleeping with me tonight? The bed is big enough for both of us. And I won’t bother your arm, and—“  
“It’s OK, Ann. Yes, I’ll come through.” Anne smiled at her, reassuringly.  
The two tucked themselves into Ann’s queen size four-poster bed. Anne turned her side-table light off but Ann only dimmed hers slightly. She turned to look at the woman next to her. “How does your arm feel?”  
“The painkillers are kicking in. Plus, the stitches are nice and tight. Don’t worry…no stuffing will fall out of me.” She smirked. “It’ll be OK. A day or two and I’ll be right as rain. I promise.”  
“Thank you for being here…for protecting me.”  
Anne inched forward and, caressing her cheek, kissed her sweetly on the lips.  
“I’m glad I was here."  
"He could have killed you."  
" Lucky escape, I suppose.”  
“Mmm…”  
Ann snuggled down into her pillow.  
“Roll over”, Anne suggested.  
The smaller woman curled herself into Anne’s strong arms, Anne pulling her closer to fit neatly in the shape of her body. Anne could smell the delicate woman’s sweet perfume and she laid awake until Ann Walker’s breathing slowed and she fell into an easy and comfortable sleep.  
......................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................

It was perhaps three hours after they had drifted off when Anne awoke to soft moans and an unexpected but not unwelcome disturbance, Ann Walker’s soft and supple derriere grinding back into Anne’s groin. The pressure was pushing against the seam on Anne’s drawers and she felt her blood rush from her brain to her sex.  
“Ann”, she whispered, trying to gently wake the young woman. Clearly having a sensational dream.  
But then the young woman turned her head to meet Anne’s eyes. “Anne. I can’t sleep. I can't sleep because I'm wasting tonight.” She took Anne’s hand from around her waist and brought it to her breast. “Please, kiss me.”  
“Are you sure.”  
“Yes. Anne, I’ve wanted you in my bed for so long. And now you’re here, protecting me, wrapped around me and I can feel you, and smell you, and I think I’ll die if you don’t make love to me. Please.”  
Anne moved her hand to the blonde woman’s chin and held it, finding her blue eyes almost black, her pupils dilated, desperate and thirsty. She placed her mouth softly on Ann’s. The younger woman groaned into her mouth and resumed pushing backwards into Anne. Anne, not without some effort due to her arm, rolled Ann over so she was comfortable and on her back. She kept kissing her fully and deeply as she placed her thigh between Ann’s legs. Ann immediately thrust upward against it, seeking friction and release from the object of her fantasies—the handsome woman who was now half-dressed in her bed.  
Anne moved her mouth to Ann’s neck and gently sucked and nipped against her pulse points, her lips warm and firm. Massaging her breast, she could feel Ann’s nipples harden, one in her hand and the other under her own chest. She wanted them in her mouth and found the hem of Ann’s nightgown. Ann manoeuvred her body, allowing Anne to lift it off and over her head. The two of them now sitting up on their knees, they looked at each other, breathing heavily. Ann’s body was small and smooth, her rosy pink nipples erect in the cool air of the bedroom. Ann cast her eyes to the bandage on Ann’s forearm.  
“Oh, your arm. Oh Anne. Lie back. Let me take care of you.”  
“Don’t worry. I’m right-handed.” Anne gave a cheeky grin.  
With that, Anne continued to service the woman she was falling in love with. She couldn’t deny her own desire and had, over the last week, thought of ravaging Miss Walker in a thousand ways. Tonight she would be tender. She’d be whatever Ann wanted. Wrapping her bandaged arm around they young woman's back, she lowered her slowly to the mattress. Their tongues danced in each other’s mouths, Ann Walker’s mewling ministrations were driving her wild. Anne moved swiftly down Ann’s body, kissing her cheek, then her neck, stopping to pause and suck gently on each breast. Then, down to her belly and to her legs. One hand massaged Ann’s creamy thigh while the other pulled down her cotton knickers just enough to nuzzle her the top of her golden tuft. The smaller woman’s musk fuelling the fire in Anne’s belly.  
“Ungh”, Ann made tiny moans of delight as the handsome woman between her legs pressed her nose and then her mouth against her damp knickers. Anne pulled them down further and Ann wriggled her bum so she could remove them entirely. As much as she wanted what Anne was doing, what she was about to do, she was hungrier still to feel Anne Lister’s body on her own, to feel her weight and her warmth covering her. Without having to articulate this want, she found that Anne was slowly crawling back up her naked form.  
Anne wanted to kiss every inch of the delicious, soft, blonde woman below her, to fill her with pleasure, and hear her moans of delight. Anne straddled her and took her own undershirt off. Ann let out a gasp, worshipping the older woman’s chiselled figure in the moonlight streaming through the window. Her strong shoulders, her sculpted arms, her firm stomach. “Oh Anne. You’re so handsome.”  
The statuesque woman leant down to lick and nip Ann’s throat again as she covered her with her now naked and hot torso. Ann wrapped her arms around Anne's strong back and pulled her tight and delighted in the wonderment of how it was that someone could be so hard and soft at the same time. Anne snaked her arm down to Ann’s soft curls, feeling the warm, viscous and slick arousal on her fingertips. Anne let out a guttural groan of delight and pleasure, turned on by how titillated the beautiful woman was.  
“It feels so good.” Ann closed her eyes as Anne’s long fingers gently spread her folds. She found her legs falling open and herself thrusting up against the tender pressure being applied to her. Anne swirled her fingers, spreading the wetness over her own hand and soon sought Ann’s entrance, pressing lightly against it.  
“Is this alright?”  
“Yes, Anne. I love you.” She said it before she knew it was even there in her mouth and Anne entered her with the long middle finger on her right hand.”  
“Ungh.” The noises Ann Walker was making were becoming louder and Anne was silently grateful that James had his own cottage. She began thrusting against the back of her own hand…her own sticky wetness soaking through her drawers and mixing with Ann’s. She resumed kissing Ann’s sweet and soft lips. Soon it was just groans and the sound of their bodies moving together with need and passion. Anne slipped a second finger into Ann’s excited heat.  
“Aahh”  
“Is it too much?”  
“No, it’s good. It feels so good. So tight. But I want it.”  
“Anne continued pushing in and out of her and when Ann’s breathing became a series of frantic gasps, she simultaneously curled her fingers and rubbed her thumb against Ann Walker’s slippery and engorged clitoris.  
“Anne. Oh God…Anne. I’m…Ahhh. Ahhhh.” Her back arched and she came with a loud groan. Her body spasmed in pleasure and she grabbed Anne’s buttocks firmly, squeezing the last of her crescendo out as she pressed herself into Anne’s body.  
Anne pulled back to look at her. Ann felt as if she had just flown to the moon and back. Slightly dizzy and bringing her vision back into focus, she gazed up at the woman of her dreams and sighed into a gigantic smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's action and then there's ACTION. Hope this is providing enough of both!  
> There's likely a few chapters left in this particular adventure...and then I was thinking of doing some time jumps to earlier and later in the career of Gentleman Jack. We'll see. Thanks for clicking and reading!


	11. Morning at Crow Nest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Previously…Anne chaperoned Ann Walker home after a convivial night out at a Rawson’s Brothers fete. Anne opted to step inside after sussing out that something was off at Crow Nest. She was right, an intruder lay in wait for Miss Walker. After battling the masked thug, Anne discovered it was none other than Jeremiah Rawson. Her suspicions that the Rawsons were behind a string of crimes including the murder of Ann’s brother John were proving harder and harder to deny.  
> Ann, shaken and awed, begs Anne to stay the night. She did and bedtime stuff happened…at last!

Anne woke up early, but for once, she allowed herself to enjoy the morning. So much of her life, especially of late, had been about being disciplined. She’d been disciplined, strong, alert, focussed, observant, and constant. She had to strive for perfection when walking a path where one wrong move could mean the end of her life. But now, lying on the big soft bed in Ann Walker’s room, next to the angelic blonde who was comfortably snoring beside her, she wanted to spoil herself a bit. She looked at her pocket watch, ticking away on the bedside table. It was 7AM. Late for her…but too early to rouse the beauty beside her? 

No. Not too early. If she timed this correctly, they could even have a coffee afterwards. She leaned in and pressed a soft kiss on Ann Walker’s cheek. Ann’s eyes stayed closed but she mumbled a contented ‘hmm’ and squirmed, leaning her cheek into the kiss and cuddling her body closer to Anne. Anne kissed her again, this time on the forehead. Ann just snuggled in closer, pulling the blanket tight. Anne redoubled her efforts. She planted a tiny peck on Ann’s button nose. She twitched it like a bunny. Then she went for a soft, pliant kiss on her lips. Ann moaned and her hips moved ever so slightly. Anne went for her neck. She kissed just behind her ear and then down the side, she peppered little kisses and then back up to her lips. Ann opened her mouth and deepened the connection. She pulled back after a sweet moment, long enough for Ann to murmur "Mmm..is it time to get up already?"

"Well…let’s use the word ‘up’ loosely, shall we? We can be awake…but maybe we don’t have to be vertical yet.”  
Ann grabbed on to Anne’s bare arm and pulled her over on top of her. Neither of them had bothered with pyjamas after last night’s frolics. She loved feeling the weight of Anne’s warm body on her. She loved her smell, her warmth, her muscular frame, and the feel of her soft mouth on her body. Anne Lister was lying, nearly naked, on top of her. She couldn’t believe her luck.

Their tongues wrapped around each other as they deepened the kiss. Anne rocked her groin against her and Ann’s breath caught in her throat, she found her heartbeat quickening. She ran her hands through the handsome woman's soft dark locks and then her nails down Anne’s strong back and finally gripped her firm backside.  
“I think you’ve got a thing for my arse, Miss Walker.”  
“I do. I’m sorry. Is it too much?”  
“You’ve got quite a firm wee grip. But, I like that you like it.”  
A tiny wave of relief passed over Ann’s eyes. Then she instantly remembered that she’d blurted out ‘I love you’ in the throes of passion last night and immediately her face flushed and her eyes avoided Anne’s.

“What’s wrong?” Anne gently caressed her cheek.  
Ann thought of Anne’s reputation as a womaniser and gallivanter. She was adventurous, independent, dashing. She didn’t want to lose her with her blubbering, foolish admissions. She opened her mouth to speak but then found that she couldn’t articulate herself…She felt unworthy.

Anne interjected, “You can say.”

“Last night, I…well I bleated out that I love you and, I…well I know it’s silly to say it so soon and I guess I just want you to know that I know that and I don’t want you to feel like I’m some foolish…”, she lost her thread again.  
“I don’t. I don’t feel that you’re foolish.” She chuckled, “It is a bit soon to say it, yes. But, I do have feelings for you Ann. I like spending time with you and I’m clearly attracted to you…a lot.” She nodded to both of their naked forms. “Obviously.” She took a breath. My life is…complicated.”

“I know. You don’t have to say things to make me feel better. If you need to go—“

“I’m not finished. My life is complicated, for…well, loads of reasons. But I want to spend more time with you, Ann. I want this to be more…if it can be. If you’ll have some patience with me. I might not always be…well, available when you want me to be. I’m away quite a bit. For business and other engagements. But I will try my best. If, well, if that’s something you want.”

Ann responded by grabbing Anne’s face and bringing it to hers, kissing her fiercely.  
Anne took the cue and resumed their lovemaking. She took Ann’s forearms and held them gently by the wrists on the pillow over her head. She worked her way down Ann’s slight, porcelain frame, taking the time to lavish affection on each of her plump breasts. She brought one of her own hands down to massage them as she swirled her tongue on each rosy nipple.  
Ann Walker felt like her whole body was somewhere between melting into the bed and shooting up to the ceiling and she moaned in the luxury and care that Anne was giving her.  
When Anne started moving lower, to her soft belly and then kissing the top of her hip bone, she started to panic a bit. Was this going to happen? Was Anne going to go there? She’d never experienced it but she of course had the same feelings about her sex that so many young women had. The fear that it wasn’t nice, the horrible words for it running through her head, breaking her out of the sensuous moment.

“You…you don’t have to, erm, if you don’t want to.”  
Anne responded by stopping to look at her and then smiling reassuringly before gently kissing the warm golden curls currently tickling her chin. She relished a woman’s smell and Ann Walker smelled glorious. She inhaled deeply and then looked up at Ann with a devilish grin. “Never think that I wouldn’t want this, Miss Walker.” Anne took hold of her middle—one hand wrapped around one leg firmly and the other massaging Ann’s hip and thigh. She took the tip of her tongue and gently pressed it between Ann’s folds. Ann’s hips bucked up in surprise. The feeling of Ann’s mouth on her was explosive. Anne now gripped both of her legs, her arms snaked around Ann’s thighs like boa constrictors. She continued to delight in the exploration of Ann Walker, licking and kissing, and sucking and humming along with her pleasure, the vibrations hitting Ann’s sensitive core. Though Anne’s strong arms were limiting how high she could buck, Ann soon found she couldn’t help but rock against Anne’s mouth. Owning her pleasure, she weaved her fingers through Anne’s hair, gently stroking her scalp and pressing her closer. Anne continued, understanding and following Ann’s desires. She found herself getting rapidly heated hearing Ann’s mewling and moaning. She pulled her mouth away for a moment.

“Ann Walker, you are deliciously wet and I can’t get enough of you.” She put her hand to Ann’s warm and slick queer and slid a single finger in.  
“Hnng…oh. Oh that feels good.”  
Thrusting her finger in and out with a gentle curl, she put her mouth back to work, licking broadly and then sucking Ann Walker’s clitoris. The effect was immediate and vocal.  
“Oh God, keep going. Anne, you feel so good. I’m..ah ah, oh god. Oh.” Bucking and thrusting, Ann Walker’s orgasm coursed through her like electricity.  
Her thighs clenched around Anne’s head as she rode out her pleasure.

Anne softly kissed the inside of her thighs.“Ann Walker, you are so beautiful.”  
“Come here," Ann said softly.  
She crawled up the bed to her and Ann brought Anne's head to rest on her narrow chest. She kissed her forehead and tousled her hair.  
“Anne Lister, you make me feel so good.”  
Anne wrapped her arm around her and brought one of her long muscular legs over. “Is that too heavy?”  
“No, I like it.”  
The two felt their breath relaxing, soon in synch with each other and closed their eyes. They slept until 8:15.

After a quick(ish) cup of tea, bacon sandwich, and promise to Ann that she would return in two days time, Anne was off. She had a man to see.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My writing schedule has been disrupted a bit. So, what was going to be a longer 11th chapter is split into two. So, here's a little quickie to help me get back on track. Will hopefully have the next instalment up in a few days time! Thanks for reading!


	12. Visiting the Prisoner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Previously, Anne encountered an intruder in Ann Walker's home and promptly kicked his ass. It was none other than Jeremiah Rawson. Shaken to her core, Ann Walker asked her to stay the night and Anne obliged, happily. Sexy times ensued.
> 
> Anne delayed her departure from Crow Nest for some extra morning sunshine. She's promised to return to Ann Walker's arms after wrapping up some business...

After a quick(ish) cup of tea, bacon sandwich, and promise to Ann that she would return in two days’ time, Anne was off. She had a man to see.  
Anne ran into James, Ann’s manservant, coming up the drive.  
“Miss Lister.” He doffed his cap. “How is your arm this morning?”  
“A bit sore but it’ll be fine before long. Look, with what happened last night, I’m understandably concerned about Miss Walker. Would you mind checking in on her a couple of times a day? And at night...just be vigilant, watch the house?”  
“Of course ma’am. I was planning on offering to sleep in the spare room. Erm, when you’re not around, that is.”  
Anne smirked.   
She gave him a pat on the back and carried on her way. “Thank you, James.”

She got in the Rolls Royce and was back at Shibden in twelve minutes. It would have been seven but she had to wait for a cow to cross the path halfway there.   
Marian, hearing the crunch of gravel on the drive as the car pulled near, ran outside. 

“What are you doing here today? I thought you were in York all week.”  
“As usual, Marian, you’ve got it wrong. The less you know about my comings and goings, the better.” Anne breezed past her sister with the barest of acknowledgments.   
Marian blustered, “Well, it’s not right. You can’t just barge in whenever you want even if this is your home. Other people live here.”  
“I can and do what I like, Marian. I’m a grown woman of substantial independent means. I’m medically trained. I speak four languages. I have 6 black belts from different Eastern schools of martial arts, I’m gun safety certified, I have a driver’s license for a motorcar and cycle, I...” She cut herself off when she turned into the kitchen to see a man sitting at the table. He was wearing a smoking jacket and licking his fingers.  
Marian trotted in behind her.

“Anne, this is Mr. John Abbott. John, this is my sister, Anne.”  
Anne spun on her heel to eyeball her sheepish sister and deliver a frown and then quickly turned around and extended her hand.  
“How do you do, Mr. Abbott?”  
“Oh very well indeed thank you, Miss Lister. I’ve been eager to meet you.” He put down a chicken drumstick he’d been eating and dabbed a napkin on his face.  
“The boys down at the factory have been waiting for me to be able to tell them.”  
“Tell them what?”  
“What you’re like in person.” He eyeballed Anne up and down. “I knew the papers had it all wrong. You’re not seven feet tall.”  
“No. I’m not.”  
“I won’t lie, you still come across as a character what with wearing trousers like you do. But I get along with all sorts. I think you should do what you like!”  
“Hmm. Enjoy… whatever meal this is.” Anne turned and walked through the corridor to the stairs shouting behind her. “Marian, I’d like a word.”

Soon enough, Marian was trailing up the stairs. She took a breath and opened the door to her sister’s office.

“What is that man doing here, eating what I presume is chicken at 9:40 in the morning?”

“You’re not the only one who has a life, you know. I’m allowed to have company.”

“Marian, I charged you with doing the lion’s share of oversight at Shibden some twelve years ago when my mission began because I trusted you.”

“I—“  
“Part of that trust, it should go without saying—“  
“Look—“  
“It should go without saying, includes a general positive assumption that you will not drag unseemly elements back to my homestead and heritage.”  
“Unseemly?”  
“Yes. Unseemly. I can see already that John Abbott—“  
“He runs his own business. He owns land in Australia.”  
“I KNOW who John Abbott is. He makes carpets, John Abbott.”  
“Well...so? He’s enterprising.”  
“He’s not fit to court a Lister.”  
“You’re not my father, Anne.”  
“No, small mercy for both of us. But I am the owner of Shibden Hall and I don’t want him here. I can’t control who you see Marian, but I can control who I see in MY house. If you insist on entertaining him, please do it elsewhere.”  
Marian scowled.   
“You are an insufferable snob, Anne Lister and a hypocrite. You gallivant around the rooftops, risking your life and limb, day and night on some ridiculous quest for justice and here you are insulting the common man who is visiting your home. What are these so called principles you throw yourself around for? Who is all this for, Anne? Hmm?“

“...Well, it’s NOT for John Abbot.”  
Marian slammed the door behind herself.

Anne picked up the phone and dialled Cordingley.  
“Cordingley, bring the bike, the Jacksuit, and the evidence folder. I’m working from Halifax today.”  
Anne spent the day combing through the evidence she had. She had the means, motive, the previously kidnapped and now rescued widow, the suspect, and the icing on the cake, the missing necklace.  
She had a quiet supper by herself at Shibden. Marian had stormed off to John Abbot's hours ago. Cordingley was out changing the oil in the Jackmobile. Anne dipped a crust of bread into the rabbit and winter vegetable stew that Hemmingway had prepared earlier before leaving for the day. 

She contemplated her next steps. She knew how to close this. She, or rather, Jack, would be preparing to visit Jeremiah Rawson in a matter of hours. The police had him dead to rights. They’d no doubt be able to locate the firearm he’d used to murder John Walker. What Anne wanted was deeper than that. What she wanted was under the skin. Was it as simple as the Rawsons wanting the land that John had set his sights on? They were merciless in business. She was aware that they were shifting their energy company's focus from coal to oil. The spot in Hull that John Walker had staked out was rich in the stuff. But murder? Not just murder, but murder within your own family tree. It seemed extreme even for the ruthless Rawson Brothers. So, why? How? She knew that only Jack would be able to extract that answer. She sopped up the rest of the broth in her bowl and pushed the chair away from the table.

Anne climbed the stairs to her bedroom and office. Cordingley had laid her suit on the bed. She put on her tight black utility trousers, her tall boots with rubber grip soles. Plain undershirt next, then black flak vest with utility pockets, utility belt snapped in place (performing a stock check first), then her long black great coat, leather mask, leather gloves, top hat, and walking staff. She stepped out of Shibden, met Cordingley at the Jackmobile and nodded. “Royal Halifax Infirmary.”

The good thing about Halifax as opposed to York, from this particular perspective, from the needs that Jack had at this precise moment, was that….not MUCH happened. It was a little town full of gossip but not much else as far as high crimes go. With Jeremiah being held in the hospital until being transferred to the prison house, she knew that there’d be a maximum of two guards outside of his room. The way she was planning on entering, she'd circumvent them entirely.   
Jack shot her grappling gun to the top of the building and hand over hand started her climb. She knew that there were only two possible rooms that Jeremiah Rawson might be convalescing in. Both were on the top floor. With the moonlight streaming through the window she could see she’d chosen correctly. She slid the window open and dropped into the room. He was asleep and handcuffed to his hospital bed. 

Jeremiah Rawson had been sleeping fitfully. He’d only nodded off properly two hours ago and that was mostly due to the sedatives he’d been given. It was 1:34 AM when he woke up again. He shifted suddenly in his bed when he noticed Jack sitting calmly in the visitor’s chair in the corner. The handcuff kept him from moving any further. In his gravelly voice, racked further from weariness and medication, he asked the otherworldly masked figure “You…Why are you here?”  
Jack didn’t reply.  
Jeremiah tried again. “I’m captured." He waved his chained hand. "Out of play. What could you possibly need from me?”  
Jack activated the vox box, funnelling her own voice to a metallic growl. “I have what I need.” She stood up and approached the bedside.  
Jeremiah swallowed. “What is it you want then?”  
“I have the where, when, why, and here you are, the who. I want the HOW. John Walker was innocent man. Ann walker was no threat. How are you cruel like this?”  
“Do you have all that? Do you think you’ve gathered all the pieces then?” He chuckled sadly.   
“You have a chance now, Jeremiah. Tell me.”  
He silently considered the figure in front of him.  
“First...you haven’t answered my question. Not really. What is it you actually want? What am I telling you? Am I to explain my personal damage? My psyche?”  
Jack drew closer.  
Jeremiah trembled slightly. “How...what...does knowing how I could do these…these things do for you? What are you? A demon? An angel? Something in between?”  
Jack’s ethereal voice came out “I am as my lord made me and am true to my nature.” She paused. “The people you’ve hurt are good people. My people. My purpose is to keep them safe and to find them justice.”  
“Well, then you’re a long way off from finished with this. You might have me here, cuffed to a hospital bed. I’ll no doubt be in a prison for years. That might seem like what you want. But it’s not. None of this was supposed to happen.”  
“Give me what I want then.”  
“I only went over there that night…the night of John Walker’s death…to scare him. I was going to warn him off putting in a high bid for the land in Hull. As you undoubtedly know, it is rich in oil. My brother wanted it. Desperately and he sent me as his…messenger.”  
He took a breath and continued. “I went there understanding that I was meant to intimidate him. It’s all I’m good for since coming back home so broken and damaged. The gun went off accidentally. John wasn’t supposed to be in yet. He startled me. The whole thing was an accident. She was there. So, I took her with me. He wanted me to kill her too once he found out. But I wouldn’t.”  
“Emily.”  
“Yes. And then Ann.”  
“Why?”  
Again he chuckled. “Because she’s not as stupid as she looks.”  
Jack smiled.  
“She was on the verge of piecing it together herself. That’s something she revealed the other night when she was at my brother’s…celebration. She's clever but far too trusting.”  
Jack nodded. “What else?”  
“He’ll see me pinned to the wall for this. But you’ll never stop him. He'll remain unscathed.”  
“Who?”  
“My brother, of course. The Magistrate. Christopher. He’s untouchable.”  
Jack’s jaw set firmly.  
“His influence is too far reaching and he never does any of the dirty work himself. So, if your goal is to make ‘your people safe’, I’m afraid the end is nowhere near in sight for you.”   
Anne returned to Shibden that night with the knowledge that she’d extinguished a very small fire but that the blaze was still burning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew! Another chapter done. Thank you for keeping up with this story. We're very close to the finish line. I appreciate your comments and kudos. This is a wonderful fandom.


	13. The Girl Next Door

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Previously, Anne (as her vigilante persona, Gentleman Jack) paid the criminal Jeremiah Rawson a visit in the hospital, learning that he was indeed guilty for the greater crimes that Jack had been investigating but moreover, his brother, Christopher was indeed The Magistrate. Anne now knew her mission must increase in scope and methodology. Ann Walker and their blossoming love, however, is still on her mind.

At night, Anne was restless in her bed. She was happy that Jeremiah would shortly be behind bars and she knew of her usefulness in that. Things wouldn’t have progressed the way they did without her taking the actions she had. She was twisting, however, because she was eager. Instead of dampening her passion and her focus, Jeremiah Rawson had unwittingly revived it. She could see now, the bigger picture and vowed to find new ways to be of service to her people and to shut The Magistrate down. But that wasn’t the only reason why her heart was beating so fast.

Honestly, she surprised herself with how she felt. The woman was, almost out of nowhere, taking centre stage in her life. Was this OK? No. It wasn’t out of nowhere. Ann Walker had been her neighbour for 22 years. Deep down, somewhere, she’d known that Ann had nursed a childish crush on her. She just didn’t know that she’d felt the same. Not until this happened. She supposed she’d never stayed in Halifax long enough to find out. She’d spent the last decade bouncing around all over the world. She’d battled everything from muggers to rapists to mass murderers since she’d been home and her purpose had brought her fulfilment. She’d hardly had time to think of the young woman. But now, when she wasn’t around her, she felt a tugging…a yearning to join her company again. Plus, she fancied the pants off of her. Little Miss Walker had grown up and anyone with a pair of working eyes could see how beautiful she was. And lovely. So sweet. So kind… 

At 7:30, she gave up her mission of trying to sleep. She paced around the kitchen, wondering what move to make next. She ate her porridge and drank her coffee asking herself the big questions. How could she make this work? How much should she tell her? Of course, her immediate family knew. A handful of servants knew. They had to. They were people who relied on her. She couldn’t leave them out of the loop. They were her loved ones. She held them close and trusted them. She’d always done her best to keep any challenging…situations…where her identity might come into question…away from them. But there was comfort in knowing that they knew. Surely it was too soon to be thinking all of this. The clock struck eleven. She threw on her great coat and turned the handle of the door. She looked back, eyeballed the bag on the table, made a decision to bring it, and got on her motorcycle.  
..............................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................

Ann Walker was in her bedroom when she heard the motorbike’s engine come up her drive. She raced over to the window to see Anne taking off her helmet. Her long dark hair and her great coat billowing slightly in what was rather a balmy day for the first week of February. She ran over to her dressing table to check her hair and her face. She’d just been reclining and was looking hard for pillow lines. She’d nodded off after doing a bit of sketching. She wasn’t one hundred percent sure that she was happy with how she looked but she didn’t know what else to do but race downstairs to the door.  
She opened the door just as Anne was approaching. “Anne.”  
Anne didn’t respond with anything but a kiss. Gathering Ann Walker in her arms, she walked them both through the doorway.  
Anne pulled away for a brief and breathless moment to ask “Is James in?”  
“No, he’s been around to check on me but he’s off on Sundays.” Ann pushed her mouth back on Anne’s and the two shared an unbroken and passionate kiss as Anne shrugged her great coat off and threw it on the nearby bench.  
“I’m so glad you’re here. I didn’t know when you were coming back and now here you are and we can have the whole day together.” She cupped Anne’s handsome face and kissed her again.  
Anne knew how she wanted to spend the entirety of the day. She picked Ann up and the blonde woman immediately wrapped her legs around her. She walked her into the kitchen, Ann clinging to her and mewling as she kissed Anne’s face and neck. She placed her on the counter. The two stared at each other in a charged moment before Anne pounced again, climbing up on top of her. She started to unbutton Ann’s soft baby-blue cardigan, caressing her breasts, her breath hot in the blonde’s ear and then her hand found its way up and under Ann’s skirt. It was at that moment, that Ann broke the momentum, patting Anne Lister to stop. “Wait. Stop.”  
“What it is? What’s wrong?” Anne stopped immediately and put her hand to Ann’s face, caressing it.  
“Your arm.”  
“It’s fine. Honestly.”  
“You keep taking care of me. I want to take care of you.”  
“You don’t have to do that, Ann.” She found herself averting her eyes. “Not every woman likes that sort of thing and that’s fine. I’m perfectly happy with and frankly used to—“  
“Anne. I want to. I want to do that. I want to do to you what you’ve done to me.”  
Anne looked deeply into her bright blue eyes.  
“Are you sure?”  
“Desperately.”  
Anne considered the slight, fair, soft woman in front of her. Ann’s eyes were full of need and her mouth hung open in anticipation.  
“Then take me upstairs, Ann.”

Ann grabbed the brunette woman’s hands and pulled her to the staircase, her mind racing with the excitement of finally acting on what she’d longed to do for so long…before she even understood it herself.  
In the bedroom, they stood by the bed. “Well, now you’ve got me here Miss Walker…” she tucked a piece of hair behind Ann’s ear, “what is it you’d like to do with me?”  
“I want to make you feel good.”  
“You already do that.”  
Ann got specific. “I want to kiss you where you kissed me. The other morning…”  
“I remember. I want that too. I should say…” Anne turned slightly bashful. “I don’t like everything... I enjoy touches and I know I’ll enjoy feeling…your mouth on me. But, I don’t like it…inside…as you do.”  
Ann nodded. She understood.  
Anne paused. Ann had never seen the strong and confident and charming woman look so unsure. There was a creeping and sweet awkwardness.  
She asked the woman she loved with her whole heart, “What is it? Do you not want to?”  
“It’s not that. It’s just. It’s been so long since I’ve taken my clothes off for anyone. At least in the stark daylight.” Her eyes drifted to the ceiling and back to Ann for reassurance.  
Ann reached over to her and caressed her cheek. Then, she untied the grey cravat around Anne’s neck.  
Anne stood motionless.  
Ann took the cufflinks out of the taller woman’s cuffs.  
Anne’s dark brown eyes watched the petite blonde fixate on her shirt buttons next. She slowly worked her dexterous fingers and unbuttoned the first button, then the next, and the next, and downwards until she reached the top of Anne’s dark black trousers. She squeezed Anne’s tight torso.  
“You’re so…strong…Anne. Your body…it does things to me. It’s all I think about.”  
She moved her small, warm hands to Anne’s belt buckle, unclasping it. She pulled Anne’s shirt out and pushed it off of her square and strong shoulders.  
A tiny ‘hnng’ emanated from Ann’s throat as she soaked in the sight of Anne’s strong physique.  
She started to pull at Ann’s undershirt. Anne obliged and put her arms up.  
Anne stood in her bra and unbuckled black trousers and boots.  
“May I?”  
Anne nodded and Ann unclasped her bra. Anne’s nipples stiffened.  
Ann put one hand on Anne’s breast and the other around her waist.  
She kissed her collarbone…then down between her breasts and then on to her firm stomach. She knelt and unbuttoned Anne’s fly and shimmied the trousers down…stopping at the boots. She smiled up at Anne. “Do you want to sit on the bed?”

Anne snapped out of her trance. “Ha. Yes. Of course.” She took a seat, her fists unconsciously balling up the blanket below them as Ann continued undressing her. Ann got to work on the laces of the mid-calf length black boots and pulled each of them off and then the socks. She next went to grab the waistband of Anne’s trousers.  
“Lift?” Anne popped her bottom off of the bed and the trousers were off of her before she knew it. She sat still in nothing but her drawers, aware of her own heartbeat, as Ann Walker looked her up and down. Ann started to run her hands up and down Anne’s muscular thighs.  
Ann Walker gazed up and into Anne Lister’s handsome face. She had no idea what to do next. Not, really. So, she made the decision to let her fantasies and desires guide her. “Just say if you don’t like something. Please?”  
“Alright, Ann.” Lister managed to choke out. 

Ann had decided to do what she wanted and what she wanted to do next was put her face to Anne’s core. She moved, tentatively closer. She allowed herself to take in Anne’s musk and in doing so felt her heartbeat quicken. Suddenly her body felt on fire down to her toes and fingertips. She kissed Anne’s queer through her drawers, finding the shape of it through the cotton with her lips. It wasn’t enough. She grabbed them to yank them down and off and dove straight back in, inhaling Anne’s sex. She grabbed her lover’s hips and kissed Anne’s downy, raven-black tuft.  
Anne looked down at the young woman currently on her knees in front of her, squeezing and massaging her legs, the sound of the woman’s breath and her wet lips kissing her intimately filling her ears. When Ann nosed in between her folds, she inhaled sharply.  
Ann let out a groan as she tasted the intimacy for the first time. She was overcome with relief to feel how slick Anne was under her tongue. She felt a boost in knowing that Anne was as excited as she was. What began as her tongue cautiously peeking out to test the waters, quickly became heated. She squeezed Anne’s thighs and dragged her soft tongue up and down Anne’s labia, from top to bottom. Anne Lister was delicious. Her own excitement came out in groans and hums. She sucked and kissed and twirled her tongue. Finding Anne’s invigorated clitoris, she enveloped it with her mouth and softly sucked.

The older woman hadn't felt this good in years. “Oh Ann. You feel so wonderful.” She started to run her fingers through Ann’s soft blonde tendrils, pulling her gently closer. She felt her hips start to move in time, undulating as Ann kept making love to her.  
“Mmmm”. She heard Ann hum, thrilled that she was pleasing the older woman.  
“Oh, darling. Don’t stop. Don’t stop.” She fell back onto the mattress as Ann Walker doubled her efforts. One hand twisting the sheet and the other clutching the back of Ann’s head, she thrust herself again and again to her mouth until she felt her orgasm tear through her body, she groaned loudly and then let out a little moan as the aftershocks tremored through her veins. She caught her breath and then sat up on her elbows to see Ann Walker smiling and delighted with herself. She laughed and went to pull Ann Walker on top of her.  
“Miss Walker, you might be the perfect woman.” Ann giggled and crawled up on to her lap. The two kissed and then found themselves falling into a comfortable and sweet slumber. They napped for thirty minutes before Anne got up to put some, though not all, of her clothes back on. Ann watched her from the bed.  
“Where are you going?”  
“Nowhere. Downstairs. I don’t normally eat lunch, but I thought I’d rustle something up for us. Permission to root around your cupboards, Miss Walker?”  
“Always.”  
Anne disappeared and Ann heard her descend the stairs, humming “June in January” as she went.  
Ann lay in her warm bed feeling happy and lucky and content. It was only ten minutes later when Anne returned with a tray of cheese and biscuits, a bunch of grapes, tea, and a small black bag.  
“Did I have all this in? Smashing.”  
“Mmm. James has good taste, it seems. This is fine cheddar.”  
“What’s in the bag?”  
“Something…I thought you might enjoy.”  
Ann raised an eyebrow and bit her lip.  
“But, later, Miss Walker. Let’s lunch first.”  
Lister poured tea as Ann topped a few biscuits with the cheese. Lister sat next to her on the bed and Ann popped the savoury snack into her mouth. They fed each other back and forth, biscuits, cheese, grapes, and then small chocolate squares until the board was almost clean. Anne, tidying up, popped the last couple of grapes into the blonde’s moth.  
“Now Miss Walker, if you’ll excuse me for a moment.” She put the tray on the dressing table and disappeared to the water closet with the black bag.

She came back five minutes later with a sly grin on her dashing face.  
“What are you up to, Anne Lister?”  
“Just thinking about you, really.” She sat down next to her and kissed her softly and slowly on the mouth. “Your beautiful face. Your graceful neck. These perfect breasts”. She kissed her way down.  
“Are you?”  
“Mmm…and how I’m longing to be inside you.”  
Ann groaned and hurried her camisole off. “Oh Anne.” She pulled Ann with her as she reclined into the mattress. She relished the feeling of Anne Lister on top of her. She ran her hands down her strong back. “Take your shirt off?” Anne obliged, she sat up to straddle Miss Walker. She cocked an eyebrow as she unbuttoned her crisp white top. It was as she started to writhe atop her that Ann Walker noticed a new pressure.  
“Wh—what? Anne?”  
“Don’t be scared. It’s a toy.”  
Ann lifted her hips to push against it, excited by the floods of images now racing through her mind. She put her hands down Anne’s trousers. “What…how does it work?”  
“Well, I wear it and use it and connect to you and—“  
“Can I see it?”  
Anne gave a small nod. “Do you want to?”  
“Yes.”  
Anne moved to get off the bed. She locked eyes with the young woman and slowly lowered her trousers, manoeuvring until the harness and toy were uncovered. The toy was thick and impressive and hung limply next to Anne’s muscular thigh. Ann’s breath caught in her throat. She was slightly nervous but incredibly excited. She imagined Anne touching her whilst being inside her. She studied the way the harness hugged Anne’s loins and legs. The way a soft patch of dark hair peeked over the top of the leather.  
“How. How does it—“  
“Hmm? Ah.” Anne gave her a cheeky grin. “I am…a dab hand with a gadget, Miss Walker.” She reached between her legs to press a lever just out of view and the black rubber toy sprang to attention. Ann jumped further back up the mattress, letting out a small started laugh.  
“You can say, um, if you don’t want this. I can take it off.”  
“No! Don’t. I just…will it fit?”  
“It will, but let’s take it slow anyway. I want to make every second last an eternity with you.”  
Ann, still on the bed, walked forward on her knees and placed a gentle kiss on Anne’s lips. Anne’s hands traced Ann’s sides softly and slowly until she reached her smooth, supple backside. She massaged and caressed it and then moved a hand around to Ann’s queer. It was warm, and wet, and soft. She slid her fingers through it, teasing and building a delirious pressure.  
Ann felt her heart beating in her core. The throbbing was so powerful she swore she could hear it in her ears. “I want you. I want you on top of me and inside me.” She whispered it into Anne’s ear like it was a secret. Anne reached into the black bag she had stowed on the nightstand and pulled out a small bottle of oil. She saturated the toy with it, Ann watching her as she lay back, her blonde curls framing her angelic face. Anne considered how happy she was in this moment. The woman was wonderful, gorgeous, kind, and seemed to want whatever Anne would dish up for her. She nudged the small woman’s legs gently apart and crawled to her, her lithe body like a big cat hovering over her vanquished prey. She dropped her head to gently nip at Ann’s neck as she resumed rubbing the woman’s open queer with her hand. She then took the toy, warming it up with her hand first and then dragging it through Ann’s wet folds.  
“I’m going to be sweet with you Ann. It might feel tight, briefly. But if it’s too much, I’ll stop.” She felt the woman’s hot breath against her ear.  
“I trust you, Anne. I love everything you do to me. Take me, please.”  
Anne entered her, just a bit. A couple of slick inches, in and out, getting Ann used to the feeling while rubbing her softly. She pressed her mouth to Ann’s breast, sucking a rosy nipple and then firmly to her mouth, their tongues tangling together. Ann, being driven slowly wild, started to match her thrust for thrust, a bit off rhythm but hungrily. “I’m going to go deeper now Ann.”  
“Yes, Anne…” she said breathily. “Unghh”. Anne pushed further into her.  
“Is this alright?” She resumed gently rubbing and teasing Ann’s queer.  
Ann groaned. “Yes just ho—hold on one moment. I just need one second.” Ann felt the tightness and she wasn’t sure if she could take any more but she wanted it. She wanted every inch of Anne Lister, to feel her on her and in her. Her mouth on her mouth, her hands on her breasts, her waist, through her hair, touching every single bit of her, and Anne filling her, firmly, lovingly, thrust by thrust. She started rocking her hips again, signalling her desire and Anne plunged in the rest of the way. Anne yelped out, “Oh God…Anne, it’s so deep and tight but it feels so good.” She started a steady moan of pleasure that jumped a staccato note with every forceful movement of Anne’s groin and hips. Her head was swimming with a pleasure that she wanted to last forever.  
Anne felt her own gratification intensify as her pace quickened. “Ann. You’re so tight and you feel so good. You’re so beautiful and you take me so well. I love this. I love being deep inside you.” She felt her own orgasm rising, the pressure of her motion into Ann pushing the toy up against her clitoris. She wrapped her arms around Ann’s legs, pulling her quickly several inches down the mattress and fully onto the toy. Ann’s legs in the air, Anne pushed into her over and over—her form moving in liquid fluidity. Ann Walker was overwhelmed, her orgasm ripping through the air in loud breathy squeals and then a low earthy moan and Anne’s followed on the tail of it. The noises pushing her to ecstasy as Ann’s nails raked down Anne’s back and then her hands squeezed her tightly.  
She collapsed on to her young lover. Ann was catching up with her breath and let out a final satisfied moan. “Good lord, Anne.”  
Anne gave her a gentle kiss. “Are you alright?” She asked earnestly.  
“I think I’m more than alright.”  
Anne slowly and delicately pulled the toy out and unbuckled the side of the harness, letting it flop off of her body. She dropped back onto the mattress and pulled Ann over to her chest. The two lay silently, except for their heart beats. Anne knew she’d eventually have to get up and carry on and figure it all out. But the late afternoon sun was still streaming into the room, casting light on the two of them. The clock in the hallway ticked softly. Ann’s gentle breathing was tumbling slowly into a quiet snore. They had all the time in the world, for now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that's it for THIS story arc of the Courageous Adventures of Gentleman Jack. I hope you enjoyed it. I hope I got the ratio right! (Genre acknowledgement and fandom parallels....romance...action...but also a satisfactory amount of sexy fun).  
> I will likely do some time jumping in future chapters to before this period in GJ's career. But, we'll certainly return to Ann Walker again (OTP).  
> I'll have a few weeks off to do some planning and then HOPEFULLY be back before too long. Thank you for keeping up with and extra big thanks for those of you who have left kudos and comments. They do nourish us and keep us motivated!


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